Dearest
by The Ocean Is My Inkwell
Summary: After Anelise loses her memory in a severe car accident, she meets Zeke, the mysterious boy who's actually a god. Can he give her back her memory--and a sweet remembrance along with it? Ficlet about a mortal and Zephyrus, god of the west wind. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1: Blank

**A/N: I decided to write this fanfic because a lot of people don't normally write about half-bloods' parents. So I thought this might be interesting. It's a ficlet, maybe about 6-8 chapters long, so no heavy adventure. Just a little fun. Of course, the main plot is really about Anelise's memory.**

**Disclaimer: I-do-not-own-PJO-or-any-of-Mr.-Rick-Riordan's-awesomeness. There. Happy now?**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 1: Blank

"Ann? Ann!"

The sudden, strident bang of a fist against metal clobbered me awake. I groaned and sat up with a painful jolt. Where was I?

Then my hazy mind began to clear, and I became aware of seemingly distant sirens ringing in my ears and walkmans buzzing with voices. Instinctively I tried to move and then gasped as the pain ripped up my entire leg. I gritted my teeth and looked down: my right leg was buried up to the knee by the crumpled dashboard and console. I swiveled my head and encountered the the soft, fuzzy material of a curtain airbag in the window. I sighed and leaned back, only to subject myself to more pain as I pulled at my leg again.

Someone was desperately trying to open the crumpled, misshapen door. I moaned. "Dad?"

"Shush," came his voice. "We've got to get you out."

I started to panic as his banging at the doorknob continued. "What's happening?" I demanded. 'What happened?"

He didn't answer. Then the banging stopped, and I heard footsteps frantically stomping around. Where was he? Had he gone away? "Dad?" I yelled. "Where are you, Dad? Dad!"

The footsteps returned, this time accompanied by more voices. Dad was there again. "Anelise? Do you have your seatbelt on?"

"Yes," I said faintly.

"Take it off."

I shook my head. "I can't...my arm's caught."

More voices rose. Then there was a rustle, and Dad's hand slid in through from behind the airbag in the window. He waved around, looking for me. At last he encountered the buckle of my seatbelt, and he popped it out. I took a deep breath.

Dad punched straight through the airbag. He breathed something hot and angry under his breath. "Ann, you're cut deep in."

I nodded weakly. "It...hurts."

He gripped my free hand, which was lacerated and laced with threads of crimson. "The policemen are here. They're going to get you out."

Some sort of engine revved to life in the distance. I started up again. "What's happening?"

"You're buried under the dashboard. They're going to cut up the front so you can get out."

Then a deafening roar filled our ears, the sound of a blade chopping back and forth in the air. The next half hour flew by in a flurry. The vibration shuddered up my spine and through my jaw. Dad's grip tightened over my hand till I felt my palm turning white and numb.

"Okay, we're going to pull you out, nice and slow," Dad whispered in my ear. "Hold still. It won't be long."

My vision was already becoming blurry and dim again. Then there was a scraping and scratching as the men tried to pull out what was left of the dashboard. At the same time, someone was supporting me and holding my leg securely so that it wouldn't rip off.

I started to breathe heavily. I could feel myself bleeding more heavily than before. Dad shoved something between my teeth, probably his thick leather glove. "It's going to hurt. Bite down on this."

It came all in a flash, a fire blazing up my leg and side. I felt like I was literally being ripped apart. I couldn't hold it back. I screamed.

Then everything went black.

A~A~A~A~A

I thought I was blind the moment I woke up. Everything in sight was all white, pure white--except for the mould on the ceiling. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned my head carefully about: I was lying straight on my back in a hospital cot, shielded by a round of white curtain, with a small rectangular machine attached to me and measuring my pulse.

Wait. _A hospital?!_

I jerked myself abruptly out of bed, only to be rewarded by a screaming pain racing up and down the side of my left leg. I collapsed back on the bed, exhausted. "Ow...ee," I groaned.

What happened? Why couldn't I remember anything? And why did my leg feel like diced meat?

At that moment, I heard a door creak, followed by sharp, crisp steps coming toward me. I was too exhausted to look up.

"Oh, you tried to get up!" said a woman's solicitous voice. "Don't you ever do that again! You almost hurt you leg."

_Probably a nurse_, I thought to myself.

"Food?" I mumbled, smelling the broth on the tray she was holding, at the same time completely ignoring her admonition.

The nurse smiled. "Yes, you must be hungry. But don't eat it too fast; it's quite hot. Oh, here, let me help you up."

She gently lifted my leg back onto the disheveled bed, sending a few twinges of pain up my side, but I didn't have the strength to complain. As she picked up the spoon and dipped into the broth (seeing that I was too weak to do so myself), I looked up at her abruptly. "Why am I here? What happened to me?"

The nurse didn't seem surprised at my loss of memory. "You were in an accident the other night," she explained. "You collided head-on with another driver. It was actually his fault, you know. But as I was saying, the crash was severe, and you lacerated yourself in several places from the broken windshield and shattered your leg after the dashboard collapsed on top of you. Yesterday afternoon, as soon as your condition stabilized, we operated on your leg, retrieving and reinstalling bits of bone where they were missing. We had to take a tiny piece from your hip."

So that was the explanation. I shook my head, but my mind was still fuzzy.

"Oh, you have a visitor," the nurse suddenly announced, forgetting about the broth and getting up to answer the knock on the door. I glanced up--it was a tall, medium-built man with brown hair and grey eyes and a squarish chin, and dressed casually in a brown pilot jacket. He looked distantly familiar.

The nurse smiled and quickly excused herself, then exited into the hall, carefully shutting the door behind her. As she did, the man came forward and settled himself with a deep sigh into the chair at my bedside.

"Oh, you're awake!" he said in a pleasingly deep, warm voice. Hadn't I heard that voice before? I simply nodded and said nothing.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired.

"Fine. I guess."

"Ann, I was just so worried about you!" the man burst out. "I thought you--"

"Who's Ann?" I interrupted him with bewilderment.

He gave me a peculiar look. "That's your name, Ann," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're Anelise."

"And who are you?" I demanded.

He looked shocked. "Ann, I'm your dad."

I narrowed my eyes. I couldn't remember him.

I couldn't even remember who I was.


	2. Chapter 2: Fragments

Chapter 2: Fragments

I stared dumbly at the mass of cardboard, ribbon, cellophane, and Christmas wrapping in my lap. Beneath the cover of the simple white cardboard box there peeked a corner of dark blue: a velvet-bound book, two inches thick, filled with blank creamy pages of the best paper on earth. On the front cover was emblazoned in stylish calligraphy: _Anelise_.

Dad grinned. "Merry Christmas and Happy 17th Birthday in one, Ann! How d'you you like it?"

I picked it up reverently to study the intricate silver lettering. "Dad...did I like writing that much?"

Dad laughed beside me on the couch, though his laugh was tinged with a hint of sadness. "Yes, Ann. You'd spend days on end sequestered in your room over summer break and pore over your newest story in your head. There was nothing except food that could lure you out of there."

I smiled. Even now, to me, food was the next best thing to life. But then I sobered again. I hated this, always having to ask my dad about how I was before. Ever since the accident last month, my mind had never been the same again. Even in school, I would frequently experience blanks in which I would simply stare at the problem on the board and not have a clue how to solve it, even if we had just studied the concept last week. I was always thinking, trying to reach back in time, trying to grasp that lost part of my life before the accident.

"Ann?" Dad was waving a hand in front of my eyes.

I broke off my brooding and gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Dad."

He shrugged and got up. "That's all right. Hey, do you want some hot chocolate?"

I nodded, then quickly picked up my crutches. "No, Dad, I'll do it."

"No, you just sit there, Ann," he said with a backward smile.

"No, really, Dad, I can do it. I'm fine."

He stopped and turned and gave me an "I-highly-doubt-that" look. Finally he heaved a deep sigh. "All right. But I'll stay with you."

I laughed a little--perhaps with a more bitter undertone than I had intended--and quickly tried to cover up my awkward feeling by hopping up on my right foot. I expertly swung around the doorway of the living room into the kitchen, where I promptly ripped open the chocolate bars lying on the counter and piled them on top of each other in the small pot on the stovetop already heated up. I tried my best not to look up at Dad, who I knew was watching me intently as he leaned against the refrigerator; instead I focused my gaze on the chocolate as it slowly oozed into a thick, sweet, brown liquid with an alluring aroma. After it had melted fully, I poured in about a tablespoon's equivalent of heavy cream and stirred it briskly around. **(A/N: Great, I just gave away my precious recipe for magic hot chocolate. Don't lose it.)**

"Thanks," Dad said as I handed him a mugful of my steaming masterpiece. I nodded silently. Then, sipping from my own mug and savoring the tingle of the bittersweet chocolate, I leaned back against the counter, picked up a pen, and began to write a title inside my new book.

A~A~A~A~A

"Annie!"

I turned from my locker and smiled slightly at the flying brown curls and flashing green eyes of my best friend Lori.

"Happy Belated 17th Birthday, Annie!" she panted breathlessly, and handed me a small little box wrapped up a little untidily in blue cellophane, my favorite color. "I know your birthday was yesterday, but it was a Sunday, and we were out carolling, so...you get the picture..."

I grinned at her. "Don't worry about it. What's inside, anyway?" I demanded, playfully trying to shake it in my ear.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Don't open it until school's over!"

"What?!"

But she was already walking down the hall toward the cafeteria, beckoning impatiently to me. Mumbling to myself, I shoved the last stack of papers and notebooks into my locker, slung on my near-empty backpack, and with an effort swung after her on my crutches.

"So," I said with a telltale smile betraying the mask of a scowl on my brow as I eased into the seat next to hers, "what's up with you, Lori?"

She glanced at me with mock innocence in her big green eyes. "What do you mean, what's up?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes at her as I picked at my vegetarian selection of tofu Romaine salad with chopped cherry tomatoes and French dressing. "Lori, you're hiding something."

Finally she relented. "I'm going back to camp this summer!" she squealed, jumping up and down in ineffable glee. "And I'm going to see Jared!"

I stopped, my hand frozen around my fork.

Lori suddenly saw the expression on my face. "Um...Annie?"

"Sorry," I mumbled, shoveling the food down in haste. "It's just...I don't know who and what you're talking about."

"Oh." She looked crestfallen. "Your memory. I'm sorry, I forgot." She sighed. "Right, so this camp is for us special people. And Jared is my, well, boyfriend over there."

My face lit up with a smile again; I could hardly stay depressed or even angry for more than a minute. Quickly I laid an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, I ruined your big moment," I said sincerely. "I think...I kind of understand what you're talking about. But just one question."

She looked up and nodded vigorously. She had this rapid, bouncy manner about her, just like her curls, as if she were a bunny smelling chocolate on Easter.

"Why...well, what makes you people _special_, exactly?"

She sobered with a very great, visible effort on her part. "Anelise," she addressed me solemnly, "I know you've seen some things in the past which other people haven't seen before. You probably don't remember them, but they always happened when I was around. Like the big fire in homeroom when we were thirteen. Or the giant water snake in my pool. You get the picture."

I nodded in turn.

She took a deep breath, which was uncharacteristic of her, considering she always just plunged herself headlong into things. Then she spoke. "I'm a child of my biological dad and a Greek goddess."

A~A~A~A~A

So. My best friend turned out to be a half-human daughter of Demeter, goddess of wheat and nature and all that. No wonder then about her obsession for gardening, cereal, and bunnies. Had I lost my sanity along with my memory?

I sat in front of a blank page in my blue velvet book laid out on my desk, watching the molecules of dust floating around in the shaft of sunlight drifting lazily in through my window. As I thought, I picked up a pencil and began to write.

Lori had explained to me that her deified Greek heritage was the explanation behind her rare combination of dyslexia and ADHD, two conditions which I would personally be most ashamed about if I were not what she called a "half-blood" or "demigod," her kind. Being "hard-wired" for reading Ancient Greek, in her own terms, made English seem garbled to her at times when she was doing her homework; and as for her jumpiness and suddenness of action, what was diagnosed by us humans as "ADHD" was in actuality a combination of her personality and her ancient battle reflexes.

_Us humans_. I snorted. I was a human, too, what she called a _mortal_, but I was one of the rare kinds that could see the truth about these half-bloods and the things they did--carry around swords or bows and arrows, fight monsters, make magic, and basically destroy the streets in their epic battle scenes. To others, all the monsters I should have remembered seeing before the accident would appear to be rabid animals escaped from the zoo. Boy, was I special.

Cue applause.

Of course, being a mortal didn't mean I was safe.

Cue boo-hoos.

I halted my thoughts and listened with a sigh of contentment as the graphite of my pencil scratched continuously against the rough surface of the textured cream paper. Suddenly I stopped, laid my pencil down, and rummaged in the drawer of my desk until I had located the crimson satin cover of my journal, also a present to me for my eleventh birthday so long ago. If only I could get my mind off these revelations from Lori, and focus on my own life.

If only I could remember.


	3. Chapter 3: Glances

Chapter 3: Glances

"_Vlacas_!" Lori's voice drifted down the hall toward me following a loud crash of books, bags, and basically all her personal effects.

I turned. "Lori? You okay?"

"Of course I am!" Lori said hastily, flashing me a smile, as she bent down to pick up her textbooks and chuck them into her locker in a not-so-tidy way. I winced--I had this personal thing about neatness.

"Look, I'd gladly help you, but..." I trailed off and gestured to my pitiful self, leaning heavily on the crutches. Every movement I made now was rather restrained.

She shook a hand in my face and tucked an unruly chocolate brown curl behind her ear. "No, no, it's fine, don't worry," she said earnestly. In a few more moments, she had successfully cleared the floor but made an even bigger mess of her locker. Seeing my disapproving look inside, she slammed the door shut and twisted the lock decisively. She turned with a defensive stance. "What?"

I sighed. "It's not like we're late. It's just lunch. No need to jam everything in there like that."

Lori rolled her eyes. "My name is not Anelise Phoenix. It's Lori Pennant. And Lori Pennant says she likes her mess."

I shrugged and held up my hands (if that was possible with my crutches) in mock defeat. "All right, all right. Suit yourself. But...what does _vlacas_ mean?"

She sighed. "Basically," she droned emotionlessly, "it's ancient Greek for 'idiot.'"

"Ah. I see." I nodded sagely.

She gave me a dramatic sigh of exasperation and flashed me her characteristic Lori-Pennant-says-she-forgives-you-for-making-her-late grin. "Come _on_, Annie, we _are_ going to miss the Gyro bar if you don't hurry!" she called over her shoulder, and half-ran ahead to the cafeteria.

I gaped. "_Gyro_? I didn't know there was going to be Gyro tod-- Umph!!!" I grunted as I slipped on my crutches and went skidding on my side down the hall a few feet. A dull pain slithered up the side of my braced leg. "Oh, Styx," I muttered, quoting Lori's personal favorite demigod oath which she'd learned from her camp. I tried to get up, but the pain immediately became sharp, and I fell back with a groan.

"Are you all right?"

I started at the sudden voice close at hand. A boy was bending over me with concern written all over his face, holding out his hand.

There was something about his eyes which seemed to freeze me for a moment. They were deep, like a clear ocean blue, and they sparkled like the constellations I'd learned about in science class five years ago. His hair was jet black and untidy, with a few tendrils dangling past his heavy eyebrows into his eyes; his nose was a little sharp and chiseled, like a European's, but it was rather...attractive. And his face was just so--_beautiful._

I snapped out of it in a second, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. What was I thinking? _He's just another of those stupid mortals_, I grumbled to myself. _Like me._

"No, I'm not," I gasped out at last, and took his hand.

A tingling sensation--almost like electricity--passed between us as the skin on our palms brushed against each other. The feeling almost immediately faded, and he caught me by the arm in a firm grip and set me on my feet as gently as if I were a porcelain doll. He quickly handed me my crutches.

"Thanks," I said, and made as if to leave, but the pain shot up my leg again. "Oh, Styx," I repeated.

The boy's eyebrows shot up.

"Uh...I meant fishsticks," I said hastily. I noted his skeptical look. "Forget it."

He didn't say anything more, but I was pretty sure he didn't forget it. He gestured toward my brace. "Well, if you don't mind my asking...?"

I shrugged and continued at a slower pace toward the cafeteria. "Car accident."

He grimaced. "Sucks."

I nodded. "You don't know."

"Oh, I know," he said. "I've been in a few before."

I whipped around at him. "You've been in a _few_? Lucky you, you got out unscathed."

He shrugged. "Well, what happened?"

I shook my head with a sigh. "Can't remember."

"Oh." He paused, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Well, can you remember what happened before then?"

I stopped. "No. Styx, I can't remember my whole life before then."

He flinched again when I said _Styx._ I wondered if he knew what I meant. "Oh. That's bad."

I snorted. "You don't know."

This time, he agreed. "You're right. I don't know." Suddenly he stopped. "Why do you keep saying 'Styx'?"

I snorted half in laughter and half in a grimace. "My friend Lori's rubbed off on me," I explained. "She's got this...er..._obsession_ about Greek stuff." I quickly steered away from the subject; I'd promised Lori never to tell any other mortal about who she was.

To my surprise, the boy didn't seem surprised. "I see. Well, I'm Zeke." He stuck out a hand.

I took his hand and shook it solemnly. "Anelise...I think."

"I like that."

"Thanks. Care for Gyro?"

A~A~A~A~A

I sighed and stared at my tired old reflection. I still couldn't believe how I looked before as a kid--and the stack of Kodak pictures of me and my dad in the snow certainly weren't flattering.

Now, my features were so much stronger. I wasn't plump and round; I was tall and thin, almost to the point of anorexia, and my nose was rather long and thin as well. Even my face was long and thin, with a jaw as strong as my will, Dad had told me not too long ago. My chestnut hair cropped at my chin had abnormal streaks of rather natural but unwanted dark highlights, matching my caramel-hazel eyes that seemed to darken when I was irritated--which happened quite often, although I couldn't stay annoyed for more than two seconds, honestly. Perhaps the only soft thing about me were my hands. I'd been watching my hand as it moved gently across the paper with the pen poised carefully in its long, graceful fingers. Fingers that touched to comfort. Fingers that touched to heal.

Then my mind wandered back to Zeke. What was it about him? His eyes. Yes. His eyes. And his face...it was _ageless_.

I mentally slapped myself. _Stop thinking of him, Ann! What's gotten into you?_

I didn't want to admit it, but after losing an entire lifetime of memory, Zeke was the best surprise I'd ever had.

A~A~A~A~A

The fly in front of me kept revving its wings and banging into the dirty window. Why didn't it learn its lesson? It just kept falling back on the windowsill, dazed, and then getting up and trying again. Then it all seemed so familiar to me, like I'd been there before, watching a fly do exactly the same thing. Déja vú.

"Anelise Phoenix? Did you hear me?"

I jumped to attention. I'd been concentrating so hard on remembering that I had just missed Mr. Danvers' booming voice. "Yes," I squeaked, more out of surprise than out of timidity.

He sounded exasperated. "Anelise, please solve the problem on the board."

"Oh! Yes, sir." I sprang to my feet and shuffled hurriedly to the spotless white dry-erase board, where he'd put down a problem clearly calling for some calculus.

I knew the answer to this. I was a genius at math. I could crack this is ten seconds. But I just couldn't...focus.

"Anelise?"

I turned with a slightly dazed look.

"Anelise, I believe if you were listening, you would remember this from our discussion just ten minutes ago."

The air was getting quiet and tense. I furrowed my brow, but my eyes must have looked blank. I glanced across the classroom.

Suddenly, he was there.

He flashed me one look with those penetrating blue eyes, and I knew the answer.

"The sink will drain in 5.84 seconds," I blurted out.

Mr. Danvers raised a brow. "Ah, I see. Yes, that is correct. Impressive mental work. But next time, write it down. It's easier for everyone else to follow." He gave me his queer little half-bow, signifying I was excused. Flushing deeply, I stumbled back to my desk.

As it happened, _he_ was seated right behind me. Before I knew it, I felt the corner of a piece of paper pushing up at my elbow. Automatically, without thinking, I snatched it up before anyone else saw. I half-smiled to myself when I saw it was written on a piece of scrap paper with the answer to the problem scrawled on it in (presumably) his handwriting. The message read: _Sorry I startled you. Did I give you the answer?_

I scribbled a reply at the bottom of the note with my blue gel pen. Even when I was in a hurry, my cursive was still decent. _No. You just refocused me. Thnx._

Almost as soon as I had elbowed it backwards, it came back to me. _No prob._

I smiled.

A~A~A~A~A

"Annie? Hello? Annie?"

I started and snapped awake at Lori's hand waving in front of me. "What?" I demanded, my voice a little jerky.

Lori sighed and rolled her bright emerald green eyes. "Annie, you are _so_ not yourself."

I faked a frown and hastily dug into my cold spaghetti adorned by one meatball. "I don't know what you mean." Even as I studiously bent my head over my food, my eyes kept stealing back toward Zeke across the cafeteria. He caught my eye and waved. A small smile flitted across my face.

Lori obviously had followed my gaze. "Ohhh," she said, and caught me firmly by the wrist. I opened my mouth to protest, but she touched a finger to my lips. "Oh ho ho, no you don't. I get it now. You're in _love_."

I rolled my eyes in turn and yanked my wrist free. "No. I'm. Not."

"Annie!" she said, almost yelling. "Do you take me for an idiot? Do you? Do you?" With every word, her voice began to rise closer to a squeak.

I shook my head, concern for her vocal chords written all over my face. Instinctively I reached out and touched her arm, and she seemed almost immediately to relax again.

"Sorry, I tend to hyperventilate," said Lori. "But I was saying, I've gone through this before. I just _know_ what it is when I see it. You know, Jared."

I snorted. "Oh, please." I was trying to think up my usual snappy comeback, but then I found I couldn't remember her relationship with Jared, or anything at all, for that matter; so, sadly, I left it at that.

A~A~A~A~A

Zeke's next note came in biology that afternoon, just when I had figured out the entire cellular respiration process and was feeling rather proud of it. Now he had shattered my thoughts--though with a pleasant surprise, at least. It read: _Meet me behind the gym after school. -Z_

I grinned to myself and shook my head. _Sure. I get the feeling this has nothing to do with school. ~A_

It came back to me with a sly smile. _Of course not. ;-) -Z_**A/N: Pleeease review! You'll get ten huggles from me, and a Christmas cookie with each one!**

* * *

**~Katrina Mae**


	4. Chapter 4: Moments

**A/N: Tada! Here's Chapters 4 and 5. Yeah, I update in twos and threes now to make up for the gap in between. Sorry; I was supposed to upload these last night, but I was watching a couple of episodes from the '80s TV show _Perfect Strangers_ (starring Bronson Pinchot and Mark Linn-Baker--it's SOOO funny!!!) with my mom and sis, so...yeah.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 4: Moments

I bounced up and down nervously on the balls of my feet, flipping the pen over and over across my knuckles to calm my nerves. As I quickly discovered, it really didn't help much.

"Hello."

I leaped sky-high at the voice behind me. It took me a little less than a second to plaster on a little smile on my face and turn around as slowly as I could. He was still the same as before, with his wild black hair and shocking blue eyes.

"Oh, _there_ you are!" I exclaimed, feigning impatience.

"Yes, I'm here," he said simply. I was surprised at his tone. His voice just seemed...old. Older than he actually was. Or appeared to be.

I shrugged and cleared my throat audibly. "So, uh...I really haven't seen you around the school before." Dad was telling me I had always had some presence of mind, so saving conversations was not the hardest thing in the world. I secretly wondered how I was before.

He smiled and shrugged back. "I just moved into town with my family."

I breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. I was glad I hadn't embarrassed myself, if he had in fact been in my school before and I just didn't remember because of my stupid, stupid amnesia.

I picked up my crutches, and we both began to walk about the same time, causing me to unconsciously grin to myself. "So, uh," I replied, "how's your family? I mean, I bet they're really nice people."

Zeke laughed to himself. "Yeah. You could _definitely_ say that." He rolled his eyes in some other direction, as if to directly contradict himself. I, however, tactfully decided to let it drop.

"How many siblings do you have? Any parents?" I pressed.

"Three brothers and a father, and four men are just _enough_ for me to live with," he retorted. "There's Boris, Eury, and Norton. And my dad Ashton. And me. Boris and Norton are the oldest. Then there's me, and then Eury, the baby bro."

I laughed a little. "What do they look like?"

"Oh, we're all mismatched weirdos," Zeke admitted with a grin. "Boris is really tall and thin and blond, and he's sort of the 'cool geek' of us four. He loves the snow. Norton is, like, more mild, and even his skin and hair and eyes just seem to be one blur of tan and brown. He likes...watching TV, I guess. And cooking and stuff."

My eyes widened. "_Cooking_?"

He gave me a mock frown and then burst out laughing. "Don't insult his talent! He's a great chef!"

"Oh." I bit my lip and suppressed a giggle. "Sorry. Pray continue."

"So, I was saying, Eury looks kind of like me, with the black hair and all, but his eyes are green and his face is, well, I don't know, _softer_. He likes landscaping and taking showers and standing out when it rains, which explains why his hair is always wet."

I raised my eyebrows. "Doesn't he ever catch cold?"

"Nah." Zeke shook his head and shook a fist playfully. "We're all very _strooong_."

I burst out laughing. Then Zeke suddenly took my arm and pulled me toward the canal that gurgled noisily behind the school. I plopped down beside him in what was left of the icy patches of snow. I turned and cocked a brow at him. "This is...a..._canal_."

He laughed and lowered himself slowly beside me with a sigh. He gestured broadly at the dirty water before us. "I know it's not a peaceful creek or a babbling brook, but it'll have to do," he said with a humorous shrug.

"So," I said, continuing our previous conversation. "What about _you_?"

He seemed taken aback. "What do you mean, what about me?"

"Well," I said with a slightly impatient gesture of my hands, "could you at least tell me a bit about yourself?"

"Oh." He seemed at a loss. "Well...I don't know," he said after a long pause. "I don't know what I like. Ice cream, I guess."

I looked up into his face. I could see his strong profile against the slanting sunlight streaming behind him, but his dark blue eyes were inscrutable. "What do you mean?" I probed.

I guess I went too far. He heaved a deep sigh. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh." I sat back again, stunned. "Oh. Sorry."

He gave me a shaky smile. "Well, what about you?"

I bit my lip to keep from smiling at the irony of his question. Instead, I answered as plainly as I could. "I live with my dad nearby," I began. "He's nice. I mean, really nice. He doesn't get annoyed; he's just really patient. I tend to be kind enough to people, and I like helping them a lot whenever I can, but I just get really impatient. My dad says I'm like--well, I'm like my mom." I stopped abruptly. Zeke turned to look at me and simply waited for me to continue. It was impossible to ignore his gaze, so with a slight sigh, I resumed. "I was supposed to look a lot like my mom. You know, brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin and all. Healing spirit. Or so I'm told. I knew her once, before she died. Or so I'm told. I...just don't remember. I wish I did."

I risked a glance up at Zeke, who was staring at me with concern. "That must be really hard for you," he said simply.

I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. "Lucky you," I said with a tiny, humorless laugh to cover the catch in my voice, "you got a big family. I mean, you're _happy_."

"But you sound happy with your dad," Zeke protested.

I shrugged and smiled thinly. "Yeah. I am. I'm just not...happy with myself."

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why not?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "I feel like I sort of let myself down. Like I could have held on to my life, but I just let it slip through my fingers."

"Listen, it wasn't your fault," Zeke replied earnestly. "You told me you lost your memory in an accident."

I nodded.

"And amnesia just _happens_ to people," he went on. "You can't control it."

I fell silent.

"Do you, er, have a journal or something?"

I nodded again. "It doesn't help much. I sit down and read it, but nothing seems familiar at all. It's like I'm reading a book all about another girl."

"You mean, nothing just, well, _comes_ to you at all?"

I shook my head.

There was a long pause. Then Zeke's quiet voice reached me. "I'm sorry."

A~A~A~A~A

The next day, Lori would absolutely not let up.

"So," she crowed, plonking down her tray next to mine and completely upsetting my carefully balanced crutches leaning on my chair between us, "how was your date with your crush?"

I groaned and dropped my head into my hand with a resounding, punctuated smack. "Why do I put up with you, Lori?"

"Because I'm adorable," she pointed out. "But you didn't answer my question."

"It was not a date," I retorted. "And he's not my crush. How's that for your answer?"

She rolled her eyes and picked at her Gyro selection--yes, yet again. She shovelled some soft white grainy stuff into her mouth with endearing gusto before pressing on persistently. "Very well then," she conceded, "how was your...little chat?"

I decided to let it be at that. "Fine," I muttered out of the side of my mouth, and bent down to pick up my crutches from the disgusting floor and set them right against the table this time. "Yeah, he's nice. We talked a bit." Whoops. Shouldn't have said that. Note to self: Zip your mouth and duct-tape it shut when you're around Lori, because she carries around a mental tape recorder and repeats back to you sooner or later all the most embarrassing stuff you've ever said in your whole life.

"Oh, really?"

"Honestly, Lori," I growled, "you're starting to sound like a pimp."

She stuck out her bottom lip at me and pretended to eat her pita bread with a hurt expression. "Now you've offended my mother," she said with mock reproach in her voice. "My mother is Demeter, _not_ Aphrodite."

"Right. The goddess of _cereal_."

"Annie!"

I grumbled some sort of half-hearted apology and dismissed the nasty subject with a wave of my hand.

"So," she probed, making me roll my eyes in her direction in a so-obvious way, "what did you talk about?"

"Families."

"Oh." She looked crestfallen. Then her face suddenly brightened. "Did you find out anything about _his_ family?"

"Of course I did," I snapped, but a grin was already spreading across my face. No matter how hard I tried, I could not be cranky more than a nanosecond.

So she probed and prodded and pressed on and on and on about what was supposed to be a _very private_ conversation with my newfound friend. She tried to insinuate a lot of romance was going on, but I knew better (and I told her so).

Or at least, I hoped I did.

A~A~A~A~A

Despite my sensible brain hammering at me and yelling _NO_, Zeke and I continued to pass notes, especially in calculus and biology class, where he was seated right behind me. If I were Lori, I would probably find it hard to focus on the teacher's long-winded explanation of mitosis, but because I knew I was smarter than the common flea, I could write little notes both on Zeke's scraps of paper and in my notebook at the same time.

The first one came on a long strip of notebook paper folded many times over. _Enjoyed talking to you yesterday. -Z_

I scribbled a reply and tossed it back with an imperceptible flick of my wrist and quickly resumed studiously copying notes from Mr. Ascott's greyish blackboard. _Thanks. I liked it too. ~A_

It came back to me on the next line on the paper. _I told Eury about you, and he said you should be his sister. You look like him and all. -Z_

_You told your brother?!?! ~A_

_Yeah, sorry. Didn't think you would mind. Don't you like cooking, though? -Z_

_Uh-huh. As much as I like being licked by walruses. ~A_

_Oh. What's that supposed to mean? -Z_

_Hint: Irony. ~A_

_Oh, okay. I thought so, because you smell like chocolate. -Z_

It took me a while to register this. I almost lost Mr. Ascott's thread, and I had to unravel my tangled thoughts and complete my somewhat garbled lecture notes before replying. _Since when did you notice my smell, I'd like to know? ~A_

_In case you didn't notice, I am a highly observant person. ;-) -Z_

_Braggart. :D ~A_

_Thanks. One of the things I do best. -Z_

_I'm guessing you like to run, too. ~A_

_How did you know that? -Z_

_Duh. I'm __observant__ too. I saw your track and field gear in your backpack when you left it open by your locker yesterday. ~A_

"Ms. Phoenix?"

I snapped to attention. "Yes, sir?"

It was then that I realized Mr. Ascott was not standing at the front of the classroom. Instead, he was standing right _over_ me. I swallowed, hoping to high Olympus (pardon the borrowed expression from Lori) that I wasn't in trouble.

"May I please see that paper?"

I blinked, feigning confusing. "What paper?" Everyone knows what a horrible liar I am.

Mr. Ascott pressed his thin lips together and simply jerked the scrap of notebook paper out of my clenched fist, tearing off a corner in the process. He quickly scanned it, and I shot fearful glances at his long face and baldish grey hair. "What," he began with that you-are-_so_-in-trouble-young-lady tone, "is the meaning of this, Ms. Phoenix?"

That was it. I think it was probably the first time in my entire life that I ever got detention.

A~A~A~A~A

I rolled the pen back and forth over my knuckles, back and forth, up and down, diagonally across, back and forth, again and again.

"Why are you doing that?" he whispered.

I glanced up across the table at Zeke, then returned my gaze just as quickly to my feet and stared down dutifully at my toes. I shrugged.

"Um..." he began again, and trailed off. "Are you mad at me?"

I shrugged again, which seemed to distress him even more. "I was in it, too," I mumbled.

He gave a quiet laugh. "I'm guessing this is your first time to get detention."

I shrugged yet again. "Can't say. Can't remember my _life_ before today," I replied, slightly sarcastically. Immediately afterward I felt bad for my tone, but I wasn't in the mood to recant what I said.

Zeke cast a wary glance in the direction of the librarian, who was paying absolutely no attention to us but was instead busily chatting with an overweight mother who was animatedly describing the process of burning roast duck for the New Year's party. Zeke slid his gaze back toward me, and slowly he reached out a hand and grasped mine. I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Listen," he said, leaning forward till I could feel his steady breath on my skin. "I think I might know a place where you could get your memory back."


	5. Chapter 5: Dreams

Chapter 5: Dreams

I zipped out of the library as soon as detention ended--or rather, I _hobbled_ out on my crutches as fast as I could. I felt Zeke's footsteps close behind me, but I ignored him for the sake of pretense until we were well past Mr. Ascott's classroom. Then I halted abruptly and whirled to face him.

"Okay," I said finally, my voice small and high in my unhidable tension. "What were you saying?"

He flicked away a stray lock of jet black hair from his eye and thrust his hands in his pockets. "I know...a friend who could help you recover your memory," he began slowly. "I'm not sure if he can really do it, but it's related to his field, so I was thinking...no harm in trying."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Is he a psychiatrist or something?" That's me. Anelise Paranoia Phoenix.

"Uh..." He laughed and shrugged. "You could say, I guess." When he saw my eyes widen, he gestured urgently with his hands. "No, no, he's not. Really. More of, like a dreamcatcher."

"A..._dreamcatcher_?" An image flashed in my mind of those intricate wooden nets that the Native Americans of the Midwest wove and hung over their beds to "catch" bad dreams. I hardly thought Zeke's friend would be an inanimate object.

He nodded earnestly. "Yeah. He kind of, interprets people's dreams for them."

I raised an eyebrow. "What's his hourly rate?"

Zeke burst out laughing right then and there, and despite all the self-control in me, I found his beautiful, bell-like laughter so perfect, so entrancing, so..._intoxicating_. In a moment, I found myself laughing right with him.

When at last we had calmed down a bit, and I was leaning on my crutches and breathing heavily, I said, "What...exactly...are we laughing about?"

He gave me a huge grin, flashing his perfect white teeth. "He doesn't charge anyone," he explained, much to my consternation. "As long as that someone is someone I know. We're really, really good friends. He only serves me or my friends for free."

"Oh-kaaay," I said slowly, still trying to recover my breath. A cramp was already forming in my abdomen, to my overpowering embarrassment. "Well...if you think he can help me..." My very nerves tingled at the mere thought that I could recover my memory. To think, that I would finally get to know the girl I'd felt I had never known for the past seventeen years! To be able to laugh with Dad at those old private jokes that I couldn't understand. To be able to trace Mom's smiling face in the photo hanging in the living room and never feel like I lived in the house of strangers.

I shook myself awake. Zeke was already extending a hand, his smile wide and inviting, his starry blue eyes sparkling in excitement. He leaned closer. "Shall we give it a try?"

A~A~A~A~A

"I didn't think his house would look like a corner of Sleepy's," I remarked, grimacing at the rows of new, untouched mattresses lining the walls of the bungalow Zeke had driven me to.

Zeke shrugged nonchalantly. "He invites my, er, very large family of relatives over for sleepovers a lot," he explained simply. He said nothing more, and I had the sense not to press him--I knew how uncomfortable it could get if I probed too far.

"Here we are!" he announced cheerily, as we reached the top of the steep flight of thirteen steps (yes, I counted). He flicked on a switch somewhere behind him, and the hallway flickered to life.

I turned to him with a cocked brow. "Well, where is he?"

"Ah, most likely he'll be in his workroom," he replied with a wave of his hand. He stepped ahead and motioned to me to follow. Reluctantly, I took a few steps after him.

We stopped at a shut grey door somewhere toward the end of the hallway, and he knocked. A few moments later, it was opened by a youngish guy, maybe in his mid-thirties, with silver-blue eyes and light hair falling untidily over his brow.

Zeke grinned at him. "Hey, Mo. Long time, no see!"

The guy called Mo smiled back at him. For some reason, I found myself thinking that they both had some uncanny...resemblance. Their features were totally different, but they shared the same mature quality in their voices, the same perfect eyes, the same perfect smiles. I couldn't decide what to make of it.

"Yo, Zeke!" said Mo. He peered into the shadowy corridor at me, where I'd unconsciously shrunk into the dimness. "Brought a friend with you?"

Zeke nodded and pushed me forward with both hands. "Mo, meet Anelise. Anelise, meet Mo."

Mo's greyish-blue eyes sparkled. "The usual request?"

Zeke bumped fists with him. "You got it."

A~A~A~A~A

About twenty minutes later, I found myself confortably seated in a cushioned chair, the long kind that dentists--and, shudder, psychiatrists--use. The guy Mo was busily drawing up a couple of chairs around me, one for Zeke and one for himself. Zeke himself was leaning over me, holding my hand. For some reason, I wasn't uncomfortable about this--his presence was just comforting. The whole setting, however, made my spine shiver in a foreign thrill. I couldn't figure out whether it was a good feeling or a bad feeling.

"All right, Anelise," said Mo, drawing up his stool closer to me, "I want you to just close your eyes and relax. Don't fall asleep, but don't tense up or focus on anything in particular. I'm going to throw some words at you, and I want you to just tell me what they remind you of. Got it?"

I closed my eyes, paused, and nodded.

"Good." He pressed two fingers against my forehead, sending a sort of cool tingling through my body.

"It's okay," Zeke whispered to me. I nodded again in his direction.

"Anelise?" came Mo's voice again. "I'll start now."

"Uh-huh," I said softly.

"Let's start with something neutral. Let's try _school_."

I took a deep breath. _Just relax,_ I told myself. "Book."

"Book."

I thought of my birthday present. "Blue."

"Okay, blue."

"Sea."

"Sea."

I paused. "Peace."

Mo seemed a little surprised, too. "Peace."

"Black."

He seemed even more surprised. "Black," he repeated for me.

"Death."

"Death."

"Pain."

"Pain."

"Guilt."

"Guilt?" he repeated.

Uh-oh. I didn't really like where this was going. I took another deep breath and felt Zeke squeeze my hand. "Mother."

I thought I sensed Mo and Zeke exchanging glances, but since I had my eyes closed, I wasn't sure. "Mother," said Mo.

An image of the photo in the living room, the photo of the laughing woman with beautiful eyes and flowing hair, flashed across my mind. "Uh...brown," I said.

"Brown."

"Chocolate."

"Chocolate."

"Sweet."

"Sweet."

There was a terribly long, long pause. My mind was racing. "Memories."

Abruptly, Mo lifted his hand from my forehead. "Well," he said with a sigh, "I think we're done for now. You can open your eyes, Anelise."

I blinked fully awake from my trance-like hypnosis and became aware of the blurry lights above me. Zeke's face came into view. "You okay?" he said.

I nodded and struggled upright. "Well?"

Mo looked up at me and gave me a thin smile. "Yes, it's done. Do you still remember what you said?"

I shook my head slowly. "Nooo. Not really."

"Okay then, sit down." He drew up another stool for me, and I sank down gratefully. "First of all," he began, leaning back, "I noted that your answers to my questions consisted mostly of colors. And...ideas."

I looked up at him, my eyebrows raised in question.

"Very profound ideas," he clarified. "No specific _things_, in general. Except when I said _book_, you said _blue_."

"That's because I got a blue book for my birthday," I explained, a little confused.

Mo nodded. "I thought so. You answered something more specific when I said _book_, something a little less predictable, because receiving the blue book was part of your memory."

I nodded and looked at him, waiting for more.

"But the rest...are kind of hazy," Mo continued. "Just general things. Which leaves a clear gap where you have no memory."

"Uh...yeah," I said slowly.

"At the same time," said Mo, pointing up a finger with an intellectual look, "when I said _pain_...you said _guilt_, and then you said _mother_."

I rubbed my forehead with a hand. After he'd touched me, I had begun to feel different. Restless. Like I knew something that I just wasn't aware of.

As if reading my mind, Mo glanced at Zeke and then back at me. "You really _do_ remember," he said. "But all those memories are buried in your subconscious."

A look of confusion came over my face. "Is there _any_ way to retrieve my memory?"

He shook his head uncertainly. "I'm not sure. Your case is certainly a very, very unique one. It seems that only _parts_ of your memories are surfacing now and then, but those parts that do surface are emotions. Very strong emotions, I might add. A little...unusual."

"I think I want to know something in particular," I replied. "You tell me that it seems there's something specific hidden in my brain concerning my mother. I want to know at least who she was, and how she died."

Mo raised his brows. "That's...a pretty good start, I'd say."

I glanced up at Zeke, unsure of what I was hearing. He looked a little perplexed himself. I turned back to Mo. "Then, Mo...can you do anything to help me?"

He paused, as if about to say something, and simply looked at me. Then, slowly, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. "There may be."

A~A~A~A~A

_"Mom? Mom!"_

_"Yes, honey?"_

_"Could I _please_ have a hot dog?"_

_The dark-haired young woman glanced down fondly at her little son, who was gazing up innocently at her with his large, bright green eyes. She ruffled his messy jet black hair with a small laugh. "Of course you may," she replied with a wide smile. "You must be hungry."_

_Still smiling, she led him by the hand toward the street vendor busily steaming his hot dogs and drizzling them with mustard, ketchup, and pickles. She purchased two, one for her son and one for herself, and sat both of them down on a nearby bench._

_"A fine kid you got there, ma'am," remarked a voice. The woman glanced up, startled, to see a balding grey-haired man just a few feet across from them in the park, scrutinizing the obituaries of the daily paper. He seemed to be a working man, since he was dressed sharply in a fine pinstriped dark suit._

_The young woman flushed a bit. "Thank you, sir," she returned. "How kind of you to take note."_

_The man nodded and said nothing more; he made as if to return to his paper, but the young woman noticed his sharp eye glancing about and studying her son. And then she realized something even more alarming: one of his eyes was grey, and the other was blue._

_A strange thrill of danger and fear shivered up her spine. She didn't know what was happening, but all she knew was that she had to get her son out of there that instant. Her heart began to hammer inside her chest. Oh, she wished that strange man would get up and go away._

_But he didn't._

_She whirled and found, to her immense relief, that her son was still there safe beside her, swinging his legs and happily licking up the rest of his hot dog. She hated to ruin his happy moment, but she knew there was no other choice. She tapped his shoulder. "Percy, dear," she whispered._

_The boy looked up. "What, Mom?"_

_She reached down and took his hand. "I have to go somewhere. Come on."_

_He continued to stare up at her, not comprehending. "But I want to finish my hot dog," he protested._

_She gave his tiny hand a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, honey. We just have to go. Now."_

_Without another thought, she picked him up in her arms and began to run._

A~A~A~A~A

"Ann? Ann!"

I groaned and struggled to sit up, shrugging off the hand that was shaking me awake. "What?" I grumbled groggily.

I shook my head, and then I saw my dad's face leaning over me with concern written all over. "Are you all right, Ann?" he asked solicitously. "Were you having a bad dream?"

I blinked at him. "I...don't know," I mumbled. What were those flashing images in my head? Who was that woman, and who was her son? Had I seen them before? "I can't remember," I lied.

Dad knew immediately I was lying, as he always knew--even the dumbos at school knew when I was lying. But, thankfully, he let it drop. "All right," he conceded slowly. "Maybe you should take something before you sleep."

I shook my head vehemently. "No pills, no tranquilizers, no nothing," I declared. I swung my legs over the bed and caught sight of my alarm clock. It was 5:47 in the morning. I jerked my head up in surprise. "You came over here just to see if I was all right?" I asked in disbelief.

Dad laughed a little. "You woke me up with your yelling," he admitted, smiling slightly. "I couldn't help noticing."

"Oh." I grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I'll try not to have bad dreams."

"Please do." His voice was caring, and he patted my shoulder with a soft hand. "Now go back to sleep and catch some winks before we get to work on the shed. It's Saturday, you know."

I nodded sleepily and crawled back under the inviting warmth of the covers. "Sorry again for disturbing you," I said with a yawn, as he shuffled toward the door. "And...thanks."

He nodded, flicked off the lights, and disappeared down the hallway again.

I lay awake for a long while after that, wondering about my strange dream. I couldn't figure out why I would dream about this particular mother and her son. Who were they? Were they from the past, the present, or the future?

More importantly, how were they connected to me?

**A/N: Yay! See? This story isn't all OC-centric. It's got Anelise's dreams about Percy, Annabeth...I could go on. So look out for those connections. ;D And, yes, Anelise is in a way quite special.**

**Can you guess which Greek god Mo is? Yeah, kind of easy, I guess. Bummer.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! THANK YOU!!! *does a madman's powow***

**~Katrina Mae**


	6. Chapter 6: Proposals

Chapter 6: Proposals

"Ann? You're looking a little distracted today."

I turned and gave Dad a little distracted smile. There, see? That just went to prove his point. "I'm fine, Dad," I assured him. "How about you?"

He burst out laughing and handed me my fallen hammer. "You're just like you always were," he chuckled, and guided my hand as I hammered the nail of the last board around the window in place.

I winced internally as he spoke the words, but bravely smiled back. "I'm glad we got through this shed without any smashed thumbs or broken nails or sprained ankles," I joked seriously.

Dad laughed even harder. "Because you're smart, Ann!"

I finally melted into a grin. "And that came from you."

"Oh, Ann, come on. Let's go inside and have some hot chocolate, what do you say?" he proffered, still stifling chortles.

I nodded and picked up my crutches, hobbling after him into the kitchen through the back door. It felt inexpressibly _good_ to just get out of the frostbiting air of January and back into the spicy warmth of the house. Even without a mother around, I thought, cocking my head, we still kept house pretty well.

"Ann? You're a thousand miles away." Dad waved a hand in front of my eyes.

I broke into another smile and gasped in delight as he set down the supremely delicious aroma of melted dark brown chocolate in my special mug on a saucer in front of me. "Sorry, Dad. Just thinking."

"Yes?" He sat down next to me at the small round table and stirred his chocolate. "About what?"

I quirked my mouth into an impish expression. "Oh, about what we'll put in the shed," I replied nonchalantly, and took a sip of my absolutely delectable drink. "Then we don't have to put your mower and your snow blower in the garage, or the tools in a drawer in the bathroom _where the toothbrushes are_, or car repair kit behind the sofa in the living room..."

We took one look at each other and then burst out laughing. We couldn't stop until the tears were rolling down our cheeks and dropping into our hot chocolate. Well, not that it actually remained hot after that.

A~A~A~A~A

_The little girl sat on the bench, studiously gazing down at the birds pecking away at somebody's kind donation of bird seed on the ground. The wind gently rustled through her light golden curls._

_Her father leaned over into her somber grey eyes. "Annabeth, what are you looking at?"_

_The girl pointed impatiently at the birds on the ground. "Those pigeons. I think I'm proving a mathematical concept through their pattern."_

_"Ah?" Her father glanced down and saw her hand busily working itself with a pencil over the rough surface of a notebook, scribbling down diagrams and jumbled words as she continued studying them without even looking down at what she was actually writing. Her father sighed. It would take a while before he would ever get used to his brainy daughter._

_"I think with this mathematical concept," the girl continued, "I could prove how to build a series of triangular gables on a prism-like roof on a building. I can calculate the ratio of their length, width, and height in relation to the roof, such that each side is balanced with the other side of the roof and does not weigh down the peak."_

_"Wow," said her father. "That's...nice."_

_Suddenly the girl tensed, and her small hand froze in its frantic workings with the pencil. "Daddy?"_

_"Yes, hun?" he said automatically, his voice distracted. It was obvious he was more interesting in watching the skaters doing their figure-eights on the fine ice of the pond._

_"I think there's an evil man over there."_

_Her father was immediately alert. He looked where his daughter was pointing. A man was seated a few benches away from them, dressed in business casual, probably coming home from work in the city and relaxing a bit in the park._

_He frowned. "Annabeth, that's just a man from work. Nothing to worry about."_

_The girl's voice became even more urgent. "No, Daddy! I just know he's bad. Please, Daddy, could we leave?"_

_He opened his mouth to argue and try to talk sense into her, when he saw the man turn in their direction. Was it really one of those monsters?_

_He froze._

A~A~A~A~A

The strident ringing of the doorbell jerked me thankfully awake from the heart-thumping throes of my nightmare. "Oh, thank you, whoever you are," I mumbled, and sprang up, stuffing my feet into my fuzzy slippers and groping about for my bathrobe.

I answered the door with a suppressed yawn, no doubt looking very fuzzy myself with my half-open eyes and my disheveled chestnut hair. "Yes?"

"Anelise?"

I blinked. It was Zeke, looking all lively and fresh, staring up at me from the lower porch. "W-what are you doing here?" I stammered. "It's so early in the morning! And it's Sunday!"

He shrugged and smiled apologetically. "I was out on my morning run around the block, and I saw your place, so I decided to stop by to say hello. Sorry if I woke you up. Have a nice day!" He began to step down again.

"Wait!" Without thinking, I shot out a hand and grabbed him by the back of his t-shirt. Puzzled, he turned around again to face my narrow-eyed paranoia. "I never gave you my address," I told him.

"Oh, that...Lori gave it to me," he admitted reluctantly.

I barely suppressed my shriek of rage. That pimp! "Oh, then, in that case, go enjoy your jog," I said, forcing a smile.

"Er, I was wondering if you wanted to meet with me again," he began.

I cocked a brow. "When?"

"This afternoon, maybe?" Zeke suggested hopefully. "Maybe at the beach?"

I gasped. "The beach? The one on Long Island?"

He nodded, his eyes all alight. "Yes. That one."

"Why, well, I'll ask my dad, but I'm sure he'll say all right," I said in a rush. "I'd love to go!"

He grinned and gave me a mock salute. "Three o'clock."

I nodded with an impish smile. "Three o'clock."

**A/N: I know it's short. Chapter 7 is COMING UP SOON! And Chapter 7 will be big, bold, and beautiful. Lots of secrets revealed. *wink wink***

**In the meantime, PLEASE review! *powwows madly with her hot raspberry chocolate* I'll be doing my New Year's Eve concert tonight, so probably no review replies until tomorrow. But please take the time to review, anyway!**

**~Katrina Mae**


	7. Chapter 7: Flashes

**A/N: Hello, hello, hello! I must give you all my most humble apologies for abandoning this fanfic for an...er...**_**interminably**_** long time. I was busy finishing my other fanfic **_**Blood Ice**_** (if you care to look at that one!), and busy with my newfound boyfriend, and besides I have no Internet access at home, so all this posting and dithering and excusing happens at the library when I go there once-in-an-orange-moon.**

**So, apologies aside, and saying THANK YOU for your patience and your reviews, ta-da!**

Chapter 7: Flashes

The whiff of a brand new car struck me full in the face as I shyly stepped into the passenger seat of Zeke's sporty midnight blue Lexus. I would never ever in my entire life condone the purchase of such an extravagant mode of transportation-I'd always been known as one for simplicity, or so Lori complained-but somehow, its being Zeke's car made all the difference to me. Why, I had absolutely no idea.

I smiled softly to myself and drank in the smell again-but there was a completely different odor now. It was fresher, more natural, less chemical-y...like a wind. It _was_ a wind, in fact, rustling from the open window on Zeke's side and sifting through my cropped hair.

I glanced over to the side where he was patiently seated, watching my every move as I fumbled with the seat belt. It was only later that I realized his window was not, in fact, open. _Strange_, I shrugged to myself.

I reached over tentatively and hesitated before pushing the button of the radio off. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," replied Zeke gallantly. "I was actually just going to do just the same thing. You just beat me to the punch."

"Do all your brothers and your dad have such extravagant cars as this?" I asked, hardly disguising the reproachful tone in my voice.

Zeke shrugged. "Usually."

"Usually?" I echoed. "What exactly do you mean by usually?"

Zeke bit his lip suddenly, as if he'd said something terribly wrong. "Well," he stammered a bit, "we like to trade in our cars frequently. Like, on an average of once every two years for each of us. Then we get new ones."

I whistled, long and low. "Are you a filthy rich millionaire?"

"'Filthy rich'?" he quoted in amusement, taking time to look sideways at me.

I sighed. "Once again, blame Lori for her stupid little expressions that _somehow_ manage to rub off on me even when I coat myself with a tri-ply rubber suit of discernment."

"I don't mind, really," Zeke hastily assured me. "You just have such interesting ways of expressing yourself."

I had to pinch myself to keep from blurting out at that moment that he sounded so old. _Overactive imagination, overactive imagination_, I chanted to myself.

Zeke cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I-uh-hope you don't mind the breeze."

I glanced up curiously at him. "Not at all. I _was_ wondering about that, though. Your windows are closed."

He tried a tentative smile on me. "The car has special features, including air conditioning that feels natural. It comes from the back and the sides in hidden vents."

"Cool," I had to say. "What brand is this car?"

Zeke grinned for real. "My own personal design by Lexus."

"Lexus Nexxus," I muttered.

Zeke's eyebrows shoved together in distress. "I do hope it's not the color of your favorite shampoo."

"My shampoo," I informed him with raised brows, "is colorless."

Zeke chuckled. I had to laugh along with him-his happiness was just so infectious.

"By the way," I said when I had paused long enough to catch my breath again. "I forgive you."

"Forgive me?" Zeke's soft laugh abruptly cut off. His face was all worry now. "What for?"

I nudged him playfully. "For getting me my first detention, silly!"

"Oh!" His face smoothened considerably again. "Yeah. Sorry."

"We should just save our chitchat for lunch instead of passing notes," I chastised him.

Zeke snorted. "You _did_ reply while class was in session," he reminded me.

"It's beyond my nature to be rude."

"Ha-ha." Zeke suddenly shifted the gear and cut the engine. "We're here."

"Wow!" I breathed, and had to force the blood into my fingers to make them work at the handle. When I had stumbled rather undignifiedly from his car, I could only gaze all about openmouthed at the glistening white beach with peaceful grey and turquoise waves lapping at the sand.

"Good thing it's cool today, because that means fewer people than usual," Zeke remarked.

I nodded. "I hope you didn't bring a towel."

Zeke shot me a strange look. "Why should I?"

"Because like any good and responsible date, you would try to save my best denim capris just when I didn't want you to."

Zeke threw back his head and laughed. "I'm not a stickler for dryness. Come on, let's get ourselves wet!"

A~A~A~A~A

Nearly an hour later, I stumbled with a breathless laugh out of the clutches of the riptide clawing at my heels. I barely managed to rescue my right crutch from the water before hopping onto drier sand again. I glanced up and saw Zeke waving to me from where he had poured us each a glass of lemonade from the pitcher he had somehow concealed from me before. Not only that, but he also had pulled out some sweet snacks from a likewise unexpected cooler.

"You have a knack for rubbing food out of your hands," I chuckled, and plopped down on the sparkling white sand a little close to him.

Zeke grinned. "You're totally confusing me with Norton."

"The cooking expert and blur of tan and brown," I recalled.

"You're good."

I frowned. "Details, details. I remember useless little facts in school, but not the last sixteen years of my life."

"Hey," said Zeke softly. "Don't get worked up again. I hate to see you like that."

I sighed and grudgingly toasted my glass against his. After taking a few grateful sips to cool my hyperactive dehydrated system, I spoke again. "Do you think my therapy with Mo will really work?"

Zeke gave me a cautious, scrutinizing gaze. "I honestly don't see why not."

"Has he _ever_ done this sort of thing before?"

Zeke shook his head. "You have the gift of being unique. But don't worry about Mo. He's really skilled. Right now, his theory is that you still have the memory somewhere in the back of your brain, like a hidden file on a hard drive. He told me-which I was _not_ supposed to tell you, by the way-that he's determined to crack your case by getting you to sink into your subconscious and experience dreams. When you tell him your dreams, he can put the pieces together. Then one day, he's pretty sure, and he said it's pretty soon, it will all just click into place."

"Thanks for telling me anyway," I said after a long pause. "Boy, you really make it sound so easy. But from how I'm feeling, I hardly think it's going to go that way." I snorted humorlessly.

"Anelise?"

I turned back to his face. I had to slap myself mentally to stop tracing his perfect features in my head.

"I have to tell you something, and I feel it can't wait any longer," Zeke declared. "I mean, talking about your memory and all. It makes my guilt too heavy. You deserve to know."

"Guilt?" I repeated. "Deserve to know? I don't get you."

"It's only fair that you should know," continued Zeke. "Anelise, I was the driver of the car you crashed into right before you broke your leg and lost your memory."

"..."

I found now that it was easier to rip my eyes away from the heavenly perfection of his face. All I felt now was an overwhelming wave of heat flooding my face. Shock, anger, paralyzing numbness. They all swirled into the same wave.

"I'm sorry to break it to you this way, and on our first date," Zeke murmured. "But I know it's only fair. I can't expect a girl to go on dating the same guy who shattered her life. I just...wanted to clear this up before we went too far."

I was hardly listening.

My breath came in ragged gasps. I grabbed my crutches and leaped to my feet. I hobbled away from him over the soft and slippery sand; I didn't look back. I half-expected to hear him running after me and to feel his restraining hand on my shoulder, but there was nothing. Nothing.

"Anelise!"

I risked a glance back. Zeke was standing in the same spot I'd left him. Across the distance, I could see perfectly well the guilt and pain crashing together across his face.

I looked forward again and made for the nearest copse of trees where I could be alone and think. Then I could call up a taxi when I was ready to go home.

**A/N: *evil grin* Hmm...twists are the sole reason for my existence. Just kidding.**

**Please review! ~Katrina Mae**


	8. Chapter 8: Letters

**A/N: Now let's all watch the depression settle in... *rubs hands gleefully***

Chapter 8: Letters

"Hey, Annie! How was your date?"

I slammed the door and banged down the hallway past the kitchen. I could hear the rustle of his stiff clothing as Dad hurried out of the kitchen to look curiously at my retreating figure.

Somehow I found the door to my bedroom through the blurry haze of tears. Then I buried myself in my pillows, where I could count the hours till the tears actually fell.

A~A~A~A~A

I didn't go to school the next day, Monday, on excuse of a fever. I wasn't lying. I really did feel terrible. Feverishly terrible.

Tuesday, I managed to pull off another absence with my concerned dad. I was still recovering, and I would need to eat a few healthy meals to regain my strength.

Wednesday was President's Day. No excuse needed.

Thursday, I could no longer pull off any more tricks. Sighing, I packed my books into my battered blue backpack, complete with a copy of the doctor's brief note to hand to each of my teachers who would demand a completed assignment.

"Anelise Erin Phoenix!" squealed Lori, and tackled me in a vicious hug that would have completely broken my other leg on the slippery vinyl tiles by my locker if not for her muscular arms catching hold of me.

"Where on _Olympus_ have you _been_, Annie?" Lori demanded, literally jumping up and down.

"Yesterday was President's Day," I reminded her through my stuffy nose still suffering from my bout of tears that morning.

"Nuh-uh, it wasn't on Tuesday, or on Monday before that," Lori countered.

I pointed to my berry-red nose. "Doesn't 'sick' count for absence?"

Lori burst into a trilling laugh. "You're being such a wet blanket again, Annie! Come on, we're have delectable Italian cuisine for lunch today!"

"You've been snooping the menu on Mrs. Byrd's computer again," I grumbled.

Lori shoved my shoulder playfully. "It's a wonderful welcome back lunch. So just shut up, eat, and enjoy it."

"Fine, fine, O Empress of Cereal and Queen of Wheat Bread," I muttered.

Lori smacked me on the back of my head. "Demeter's listening."

"Styx, it's February, Lori! She's probably snoozing somewhere in the woods of your back yard."

"I don't have woods in my back yard," Lori pouted. "And Demeter is currently very wide awake, listening to you while pouring Persephone a bowl of cereal."

I rolled my eyes and gave up the argument. At least I still had Lori. Smiling and shaking my head, I swung round the double doors after her and took my own generous portion of fettucini.

Unfortunately, the "at-least-I-still-had-Lori" part swiftly turned into the "curse-Hades-I-still-had-Lori" part.

"So how was your _date_ to the beach with Zeke Ventus?" Lori shot at me with a coy smile, nudging me playfully.

I scowled down at my cream and herbs. "It was okay."

"Annie," Lori sighed, "I can read you like a picture book. It was _not_ okay."

I shrugged and stuffed a clump of noodles into my mouth instead of answering.

"Well? What did he do?" Lori pressed. "Did he kiss you too soon? Did he try to hit on you?"

"Just the opposite," I complained.

Lori gave me a piteous look of pure confusion. "Then why did he invite you?"

"Why did I ever tell you I was going to have a date?" I sighed back.

"Because you can't resist my charms," Lori reminded me. "But I want to know every detail. What. Really. Happened?"

"I'll tell you 'What. Really. Happened'. He comes out and tells me he's the guy who crashed me in the stupid accident that cost me my leg and my life."

Lori gasped. "You mean he caused you to lose your memory."

I nodded miserably.

"That stupid, moronic, idiotic _vlacas_!" she growled.

I sighed and let my fork fall with a clatter. "Lori, it wasn't his fault. The only curse I credit him for is not telling me sooner."

"Maybe he just remembered recently," Lori suggested hopefully, now turning the conversation in a completely new direction. "And besides, at least it was on your first date that he told you. I know most kinds of guys, and I'm guessing he's the kind of guy who's honest enough to at least tell you before your relationship really deepened too far."

I shrugged and picked up my fork again, but sat studying the metal tines for a long while before I recommenced picking at my fettucini. "That's basically what he told me, too."

"There, see?" Lori leaned back with a triumphant smile. "Annie, don't worry about it. If I were you, I wouldn't be mad at him. I heard he's actually helping you get therapy for your memory."

"You 'heard'. Okay, you 'heard'," I snorted with an ounce of genuine amusement. "I _told_ you that, Lori."

"Whatever," she waved dismissively. "The point is, the guy is sorry. Ever heard of having a touch of forgiveness? It's a powerful trait, Annie. Jake and I have had our ups and downs. And when there are downs, they're really downs." Lori leaned forward again over her empty plate-how she'd managed to swallow all that pasta and yak at the same time, I had no idea-and grasped my hand warmly. "Try to forgive him, Annie. Besides, he's too cute."

I rolled my eyes. "That does it."

"Wait! Annie-!"

But I was already making my way purposefully toward the door of the cafeteria-and along the way I crashed into the last person on earth I wanted to see.

Huffing, I was compelled to take the hand Zeke offered me. I essayed to stand up on my crutches with the most dignity my dusty coat could now afford me.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey yourself," said I. I moved forward through the pressing influx of chattering and hungry students.

"Anelise!"

Somehow, the desperation in his voice was more than enough to freeze me midstep. I paused. Then, warily, I turned around.

Swiftly Zeke moved closer. "Anelise, I'm really sorry about Sunday," he whispered sincerely. "I'm sorry about everything."

"You should be, you stupid, moronic, idiotic _vlacas_!" I flung at him.

I caught the flash of stupefied sorrow on his face before I whirled away and stumped out the door. It was only later, twenty minutes into my social studies class, that I realized I had used Lori's very expression on him.

A~A~A~A~A

"Hello, dear." Dad stepped up from the flight of stairs leading to the basement just the same moment that I unwedged my bulky self from the narrow front doorway. "How was school, Annie?"

"Sheesh, Dad, we should make these doors wider!" I grumbled, and swung my backpack from my shoulders to the nearest spot on the conveniently placed couch. I was silent as I hung up my grey pea coat to dry on a peg from the foggy drizzle that afternoon.

"We will soon," Dad promised, grinning. He came closer to help me out of my snow boots. "Was everything okay? The teachers accepted your sick note?"

"Yeah, it was fine," I told him truthfully enough. "Lori was the complete personification of hyper energy, as usual."

Dad chuckled as he set my boots at the end of a neat row of our footwear drying in the tiled foyer. He urged me into the kitchen. "Come on, I just finished making your favorite flavor of hot chocolate before you arrived. You can tell me all about it when you're heated up."

"Thanks, Dad," I mumbled shamefacedly, and swung the single long crutch-stride it took from the living room to the eat-in kitchen.

I sighed and dug my face into the fresh supermarket cookies and slurped up my hot chocolate. Immediately the warm feeling radiating through my nerves made me feel ready enough to confess everything to Dad.

"My date with Zeke this Sunday didn't go exactly as planned," I began without ceremony.

Dad nodded thoughtfully. "Your tears would have told me that."

"Well, I mean, he made a confession. He was the other driver in the accident two months ago."

Dad stopped in the middle of pouring his own mug of hot cocoa. I watched tentatively as the emotions played across his face. Fear, disbelief, anger, relief, confusion.

"Why would he tell you that?" Dad broke in at last.

I stared at him across the table, my mouth stuck open. Wonder dawned in my eyes. "Yeah. I guess I never thought of that." I scrunched up my eyebrows.

"Because he's an honest person, don't you see?" said Dad.

I frowned pensively. "You know, Dad, this is so weird."

"What is?"

"I was genuinely, totally, _completely_ convinced that you would have me break up with Zeke right away and never speak to him again."

"Well," said Dad slowly, "I can't say that wasn't on my mind the first second that the news came out of your mouth. But like I always tell you" -here he injected a fond smile- "you must always think before you quack."

"_Quack_, _quack_," I squirted.

We both laughed.

"So," I returned to the subject, "what do you think I should do?"

"Speaking as a good father, I would have you stay away from him for a while."

"No offense, Dad, but you honestly don't sound so sure."

"I'm not sure." Dad chuckled, then quickly sobered. "But speaking from my heart, Annie, I would have you forgive him. You know him better than I do, of course-you're the one who's seen him and spoken with him, not me-but I think you've told me just enough for me to think he has honesty in him."

"Dad, I hardly told you anything about him," I pointed out. "In fact, that's precisely what I'm feeling guilty about right now."

"I did say you told me _enough_," Dad repeated gently. "Now what do _you_ think?"

I sighed heavily and stared down at the dark brown chocolate residue cooling into a blurry crescent at the bottom of my blue mug. "I'll think about it, Dad."

"Sure," he said. That was all.

A~A~A~A~A

Friday passed, and I managed to avoid another encounter with Zeke. I actually sighted him from a distance down the hall, but fortunately he wasn't turned in my direction, and he didn't really seem to see me. Though I could not be sure of that.

His first letter came early Saturday morning. I yawned and shuffled into the kitchen (if that was possible with crutches), pulling my fluffy aqua robe over my pilling lavender flannel pajamas, when Dad almost crashed into me coming round the doorway.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. We both had to laugh.

"Morning, Dad," I greeted him fuzzily through a stale smile.

"There's fresh hot pancakes and syrup ready for you on the table, hun," he informed me.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"Sorry, but the station needs me to cover an early shift today. In fact, I might not be home until late tonight. There's still some pizza in the fridge from two days ago, and some uncooked meat and noodles. I'm really sorry I wasn't able to prepare you some-"

"Dad, Dad," I said warmly. "It's okay. I can take care of myself. You go ahead and go to work today." I gave him a smile and tiptoed to peck him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Annie!" He grabbed his dark blue jacket from the pegs and reached for the doorknob, then stopped. "By the way, I already picked up the mail an hour ago. There's a letter from Zeke Ventus to a Ms. Anelise Erin Phoenix. It's on the counter."

I found, a little belatedly, that my mouth was hanging open. I quickly shut it. "Thanks," I muttered.

"I'll leave it up to you, Annie," Dad said. "You know what I'm talking about."

I nodded.

Dad smiled, kissed me on the forehead, and disappeared out the door. When five seconds had passed and he hadn't rung the doorbell to ask me if I knew how to remove the stains from my laundry, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Ten seconds passed. Then the doorbell rang.

"Annie?" his muffled voice came.

"Yeah, I'm coming, Dad!" I called through a mouth stuffed with pancake and syrup.

"No, it's okay," came his fuzzy voice. "I just wanted to make sure you know the letter opener is in the drawer under the toaster."

"Geez, Dad, you're really pushing it," I said through the door. "Thanks, anyway. Have a good day at work."

"Same to you."

I stood and waited at the door, peeping furtively through the narrow glass panels bordering the doorway, to make sure that he really entered his car, revved the engine, and pulled out of the driveway. About five frozen minutes after his car had long disappeared, I finally hobbled back into the kitchen.

My pancakes had gone cold. Somehow, despite my neurotic self, this didn't bother me. My eyes were only for the rumpled blue envelope on the counter.

I picked it up and did the most idiotic thing I would ever be caught doing: I smelled it. It was salty and tangy, like a fresh sea breeze on a cool May morning.

My fingers trembled, but I hardly waited to hunt up the letter opener in the drawer. I slipped a lean finger under the flap and ripped it open.

The stationery was what would be expected of a guy-kind of plain, but classy and cute at the same time. It was light blue with white clouds and the figure of some ancient Greek or Roman dude in a tunic waving the winds around. Cute? Did I just say cute?

Seriously, maybe Lori was starting to rub off on me.

I shook my head and forced myself to hold the sheet steady so I could read.

_Dearest,_

_ I hope every day that you will forgive me for what I have done to you. I'm sorry if I disturbed your life by coming on the scene at all. If you are angry with me beyond the point of forgiveness, I cannot say that you are wrong, because I am the one in the wrong. I will not defend my part in the accident; though it was unintentional, as are all accidents, the fact remains that I was part of it and I can only do what I can to reverse its effects._

_ If you are still unconvinced at this point in my message that I am sincere, I will say no more._

_ But I feel compelled to express the rest of my confessions to you. Thankfully, they are positive to hear. I must tell you that the first time I looked deep into your eyes, I could not let go again. Perhaps you took it for brief attraction, but this is a bond I cannot explain to you in human terms. Indeed you may not return your part of this bond; I do not hold you to it. But I love you, Anelise, and always will. It is because I love you so much that I told you the truth. When I tell you that my love for you is everlasting, I speak the truth as well. It is not a promise I take lightly. My life is longer than you would imagine. And all through that life, I devote myself to you._

_ I maintain a high hope that someday, if not today, you will see my love and love me. Until then,_

_ With humble love,_

_ Ezekiel Ventus_

"So much for unrequited love," I muttered cynically. But I could not underestimate the effect of the letter. My fingers stiffened. I let the paper flutter to the floor.

A~A~A~A~A

The next day, Sunday, I awoke to see another dark blue envelope slipped through the crack in my window. Squinting in the dully blinding sunlight of early winter morning, I groped about for my crutches and managed to slide over far enough to reach the window. I took the envelope.

It was smaller than the last one, but seemingly slightly heavier. My eyebrows mashed together. I had no need to look at the back to see who it was from, but I did anyway, just for the sake of reading his smooth, masculine cursive again.

I found a pencil on my nightstand and used it to open the envelope a little more quietly than I had the previous morning with my finger. It was a small blank card, with a design of of lush blue roses bound by a silk ribbon into a bouquet. There was no message inside but a rhyme in his own hand:

_Violets are red,_

_ Roses are blue-_

_ Only in my world_

_ Because I met you._

I half-snorted in amusement. "Well, he's got character, I've got to give him that," I murmured aloud.

As for me, it was true that _my_ world had turned upside down ever since I met him.

**A/N: So WHAT DO YOU THINK IS GOING TO HAPPEN? (I honestly don't mind if you answer this rhetorical question in a review.)**

**So...yes, there's that adorable little grey and green button down there. Go ahead. Just click it. You know you want to. ;D**


	9. Chapter 9: Acquaintances

**A/N: Again, sorry for the delay, peoples! Like I said a lot before, I have no Internet at home. Also, I've been mostly worrying my butt off about my Latin SAT and about my bf getting flooded down in NC. Turned out nothing happened, but worry takes a slice out of you...literally. I swear I just shrank a size. Also, I'm prepping to be a lifeguard and all that time-consuming stuff for college applications in the future, so...well, that's my whole bunch of lame excuses. Please ignore me and enjoy the story!**

Chapter 9: Acquaintances

Sunday afternoon passed in my brooding. Homework was hardly enough to consume half my time, and I was a fast worker when I wished to distract myself, so by one o'clock I was left staring morosely out the window with nothing left to do.

"Do you want to go out?" Dad suddenly spoke up from behind his large newspaper at his station in the La-Z-Boy.

I flicked my eyes up at him, then at the TV flashing with images of a corny sitcom. I considered my options: stare out the window, watch a weepy soap, or go out and discover fresh air.

"Sure, I'll go out," I agreed. "Do you need to come with me?"

Dad shrugged. "I was thinking by yourself. It looks like you could use the space and time."

"Thank you, Dad," I said sincerely. "Don't worry about me. I'm a wonder on these crutches." I flashed him a tentative smile.

Dad smiled back. "By the way, your coat just came back from the cleaners. The grey one."

"Thanks," I said again. I grabbed the aforementioned pea coat from its peg and hopped brightly out the door.

"Annie?" came his hurried voice from behind the door.

I thrust my head back in. "What?"

"Aren't you bringing boots and a purse of some sort?"

"_Vlacas_!" I exclaimed, and hurried back inside. I located my worn fringed leather handbag somewhere between the dining table and the loveseat, then tugged on my sturdiest black snowboots. Then I was out again in the frigid, crackling air.

I started out with absolutely no idea where I was going; then, on a sudden spark of enlightenment, I spun around skillfully on my crutches and began walking in exactly the opposite direction. The advantage of living in a more-than-busy suburb was that the downtown was merely three blocks away-a trifle to drive, a casual stroll for a normal person, and an exercise for a cripple.

I flipped quickly past the different stalls and names-Gerald's Antiques, New York Leather, Tiffany's Accessories and More, Chelsea & Chloe. Hmm...Chloe. That was a pretty name. And Greek, too. Of an impulse, I decided at that moment that if I ever had a daughter, I would name her Chloe.

My eye was caught by the stylish Grecian-esque dresses displayed proudly in the sparkly window of that small boutique. I seriously considered going in; but I had other plans, and so I decided to set that aside for next week. Getting more books was more important. Besides, what good was an empty Sunday if I had only hot chocolate and no book to spill it on?

Just my luck-the very next stall happened to be a neat-looking bookstore. It also seemed to carry some rare editions; maybe I could discover some talented and overlooked author to follow. I wheeled on one crutch and slid in. The aged European man behind the counter nodded and smiled to me once in greeting; encouraged and in high spirits, I smiled back. Even the cheery jangle of the cowbell hanging from the door gave me a deliciously homey feeling.

The first aisle I hit was definitely off my list. Hot chocolate did not go well with horror. And besides, the thought of Poe alone creeped me out. Hurriedly I hobbled into the next aisle-cooking and baking. Hm...useful, but not my priority at the moment.

The next section took me completely by surprise. Hidden by a small rack of attractive vintage records was a wall covered entirely with sparkling and dusty books alike all on mythology-Greek mythology, Egyptian mythology, even African and Babylonian mythology. Maybe it was time for me to broaden the scope of my reading list. I reached out for a promising leather-bound volume with Greek characters on it, just at the same moment that somebody else's hand did too.

"Oh!" both of us exclaimed in surprise, and withdrew our hands.

I glanced up at the person nervously and smiled an apology. It was a man older than me, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties, kind of shaggy but somehow in a clean and strangely homey way. He looked as if he'd been poring over books for weeks of sleepless nights and simply forgotten either to eat or to shave.

"You can have it," I offered gallantly. "You were the first one to touch it."

He grinned and took it tentatively from my outstretched hand. "Thanks." He laughed softly. "You don't look much the type who would be interested in mythology."

"I don't look much the type for anything," I pointed out.

Again a grin flashed across his sunny, open face. He ran a hand through his dark unshorn hair and stopped in surprise, as if realizing for the first time how he actually looked. Maybe it truly was the first time.

I turned back to the other books, and together we scanned the intimidating shelf in companionable silence. We were only interrupted once by the querulous rumbling of his stomach. At last I said, as delicately as I could, "You look hungry."

"Uh, yeah," he murmured back sheepishly. "I'm a crazy guy. I tend to get obsessive-especially about this project of mine now."

"Oh?" I turned back to him with genuine interest.

He nodded with a conspiratorial wink. "A story about Greek mythology in the middle of a modern world. You know, the gods never died. They moved to Manhattan-and they have human families, too." He smiled mischievously, as if encouraging me to play along.

My stomach did a double flip. I was pretty sure a veritable frown was frozen on my face, because immediately his brow knit with concern.

"What's wrong?"

I swallowed noisily. "You know about that?"

The guy's eyes widened the slightest bit. Then he cocked his head to the side, as if trying to see through the complicated code of my personhood. For a second, his gaze was so penetrating that I shifted uncomfortably-as if he really _could_ see something in me.

"Are you a half-blood?" he asked me, very softly.

I shook my head rapidly back and forth. "Lori says I'm mortal. But she's a daughter of Demeter," I babbled. Then I realized what kind of fool I was making myself, and I promptly shut up.

"Interesting," he breathed. "You know, I never thought a demigod would tell any mortal about all...this."

I grimaced. "You don't know Lori. But she's only told me, because I'm her best friend," I amended quickly. "Are you-are _you_ a half-blood?"

The man laughed quietly. "In a sense, yes. My parents were half-bloods-a son of Athena and a daughter of Hermes."

I gaped. "They actually lived long enough to get married and have kids?"

His smile faded. "They are...not here at this moment."

"Oh." I flushed furiously. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"So is that why you like reading books?"

"And losing my keys so I can pick the house locks, yes," he confirmed. "Intelligence and sneakiness-a deadly combination."

I grinned encouragingly. "And how's your book coming along? Going to be published soon?"

He shook his head ruefully. "I got the general idea down, but no _characters_. I'm stuck."

I nodded sympathetically. "Takes a while."

"Why? Do you write?"

"Erm, yes."

"About what?" he pressed eagerly.

I raised a brow. "Now don't you go snatching my ideas from me!" I warned him.

We both had to laugh.

"I get dreams sometimes that inspire me," I confessed at last. "I can't make sense of them. But sometimes I have to write them down."

"Well, that's fascinating," he returned sincerely. "I never actually imagined that ideas could come through dreams."

"I'm a weirdo, remember?"

Suddenly he stopped. "Do you see...strange things?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Like what?"

"Well, I don't know-maybe you haven't had a chance to actually test it out. But maybe your half-blood friend fights monsters or carries a sword."

"Oh, _that_!" I laughed. "Yes, I see through the Mist. Oh, and yes, she _did_ tell me all about that, too."

He grinned. "I was just hoping you wouldn't get all jumpy and scream the next time you see a hellhound pop out of the concrete."

"And why would I see a hellhound pop out of the concrete?" I quipped. "I'm a mortal. No scent, no aura, no nothing."

"I meant, if you happen to be with your friend...or with me."

I would have verily demanded why I would be with _him_ at any time in the future, when his stomach growled impatiently, interrupting both of us. I sighed and gave it up with a small smile. "Come on, we have to get you something to eat."

Hastily he paid for the leather Greek book, and I hauled him out the bookstore in the direction of home. "By the way," I called over my shoulder, "I'm Anelise Phoenix."

"Richard Riordan," he returned. "You can call me Rick."

A~A~A~A~A

"Dad!" I knocked on the door of his study. "Dad?" There was no response. Then I turned and saw the sticky fluttering on the back of the front door: _Called up by the station again to wrap up an important case. So sorry. There's spaghetti in the fridge-don't know how old that is-and some other unidentifiables you can probably whip up into something. Love you, Dad. P.S. There's another letter from Zeke on the counter. I really think you should try to give him a break, honey._

"Hm," I sighed. "I never realized my dad would become a pimp."

Rick had been reading the message over my shoulder. "Who's that?"

I grimaced. "Zeke Ventus is...something more than an acquaintance. But not exactly my boyfriend, I think. I don't know. Geez, it's complicated."

"Sounds like it," he murmured politely as I charged into the fridge and began dumping the assorted "unidentifiables" onto the counter. I could already see a potential herbed-and-tomato'd omelette in the mess.

"Aren't you going to open it?" said Rick a moment later, sounding surprised.

I rolled my eyes behind his back and forrayed for a pan. "He's not exactly my favorite person at this moment."

"Oh. Ha-ha."

"Very funny, Rick." I cracked an egg with a flourish of expertise and watched it sizzle in the pan with delight. There was nothing better than my super secret recipe for a sunny-side-up omelette. I mean, not just because it says "omelette" it means it has to be scrambled.

"So what's come between you?"

"I don't know there's actually ever been anything 'between' us," I replied with careful emphasis. "I liked him, he liked me. Then a distorted version of Aphrodite has to march up to me and say, 'Sorry, kiddo, this guy just ruined your life and you didn't even know it'."

Rick chortled at my allusion to the goddess of airheads. "What do you mean 'ruined'? I never thought someone as young as you could already have a ruined life."

"Whatever," I retorted, and tried to laugh it off. Still, my eyes stole toward where my crutches leaned against the other side of the refrigerator.

"Is that your mom?"

I turned my head slightly to see that he was gazing intently at my mom's sepia portrait hung on the wall of the dining room, just visible through the other doorway of the kitchen.

"Yeah."

"She looks exactly like you."

I rolled my eyes. "Everybody says that. It's not true, you know. She was ten times more gorgeous."

"No, I'm serious." Well, he sounded serious enough. "When I saw you, I was immediately reminded of somebody. And your mom is that person."

I grunted something; then the realization struck me sharply in the face. "You knew my mom?"

"Not exactly. But I think my dad did."

I was growing excited. I had to work to bring down my heart rate. "He did?"

"Um..." Rick studied me with concern-probably wondering how quickly the ambulance could come if one were needed. "I don't know much; he didn't really talk about her. I just saw that same picture, wallet size, in his garbage can one night many years ago. They almost got married, you know...before my dad met my mom..." He trailed off, keenly observing the emotions playing across my face.

I felt like I was choking. "You mean to say we could have been-siblings?"

"I think that's the idea. Yeah."

I gagged on my saliva. It took a few moments for me to slow down my breathing and to notice the burning omelette as well. Quickly I flipped it, let it cook, and scooped it onto a plate.

"Are you all right?" he asked solicitously.

I nodded.

"Sure?"

"Yeah," I croaked out. Again we both had to laugh at the mere contradiction in my tone.

"Thanks," he said, taking the plate of egg. He sampled it-and then murmured, "Delicious."

I blushed. "Thank you." I swiftly served up my own plate and wandered over to his side of the counter as I ate. My eye fell on Zeke's sky blue envelope, and I couldn't resist: I grabbed it and slipped it open.

The note was all very simple.

_Dearest Anelise - I'm very sorry. Will you forgive me?_

Just like that.

**A/N: Yayyy! Rick Riordan is in the story! It was all very well planned, you know...I knew I would put this twist in from the very start. So what do you think will happen?**

**Also, review please!**

**~Katrina Mae the Hurricane Girl**


	10. Chapter 10: Chances

Chapter 10: Chances

"Er, Anelise? What's wrong?"

I forced myself to raise my head and stare at Rick, giving him a distracted and almost idiotic smile. "Nothing's wrong."

"Yeah, but you look like you're going to be sick."

Indeed, being an author, his description of me at that precise moment was overly accurate. My mouth felt dry, and my head was thrumming with a weird sensation. This was how I felt when I was faced with two choices, two emotions that were equally strong but completely contradictory.

"Nothing's wrong," I repeated robotically. I shook my head quickly and infused some synthetic cheeriness into my voice. "Do you want anything else to eat? Maybe something to drink?"

Rick gave me a strange, sidelong glance, and shook his head. "No, thanks. You cook really well, though."

"Yeah. Thanks. That's why my dad has me."

Rick grinned lopsidedly at my corny wisecrack. "I suppose I'm not allowed to ask what was in the letter."

"No, you're not," I confirmed with relieved complacency. "Now how about that book of yours?"

Whatever he said next was completely lost on me. I only saw his lips move to form words before the edges of my vision shimmered and turned grey, and then blackness came and swallowed me.

A~A~A~A~A

_I was standing in a huge golden room ringed with giant chairs-twelve magnificent thrones. In the very center of the room stood-or slumped-four figures: a satyr, a golden-headed and blue-eyed young man, the blonde girl I'd seen before, and the other black-haired boy from my first dream. The two of them seemed to have grown many years since my last visions of them. They both must have been at least sixteen or seventeen._

_ The golden-haired guy was gasping and pleading with the black-haired boy. "He's changing. Help. He's...he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please-" Then his face abruptly morphed into something old and cruel, and his eyes turned to a molten gold. "NO!" he bellowed in a different, harsher voice. He knocked the black-haired boy aside with so much force that he hit his head at the base of one of the thrones; then the blond guy grabbed at a long sword lying nearby in a fireplace, but dropped it and howled with pain when the hilt glowed hot._

_ Percy was lying next to the blonde girl Annabeth. "The knife, Percy," she was muttering. "Hero...cursed blade..."_

_ The blond guy collapsed from the pain of the burn-then his young voice returned. "Please, Percy..."_

_ The boy Percy stumbled toward the guy with Annabeth's knife. All of a sudden, somehow, I knew the tall young man's name was Luke...or it used to be._

_ "You can't...can't do it yourself," Luke was whispering. "He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can...can keep him controlled."_

_ It all seemed to go in slow motion, then, and the sound seemed to blur together in a wordless song. Percy handing the knife to Luke...Luke plunging the blade into his armpit...his body supported by a weeping Annabeth...the gods entering and falling into hushed awe._

_ I struggled to wake, but there was something tugging insistently at my mind. Prophecy...hero...something about a prophecy..._

A~A~A~A~A

"Anelise? Anelise!" Someone shaking my shoulder. "Anelise, wake up, please!"

I groaned and forced my eyes open. Rick's intense green eyes-I'd never noticed they were green before-were staring down at me with ineffable concern. "Water," I managed to croak.

He flew to his feet, yanked open the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of spring water which he twisted open with trembling hands and held to my lips. With his free hand he held me up with the gentlest touch I'd ever felt.

When he had drawn back the bottle to let me breathe a second, it came crashing over me again. "Wait!" I gasped. My lungs were screaming for air, and my next words came out in a painful wheeze. "The prophecy...Kronos...got to warn Sally..."

Rick was staring at me in disbelief and bewilderment. Nonplussed, he said slowly, "What-exactly-are you talking about?"

"The prophecy!" I insisted. "I saw it, the battle, Olympus...oh gosh..."

"Gods," he corrected me absently, and continued to frown with most intense focus. "What prophecy? What did you see? Did you just have a vision?"

"Vision, yes, I mean no-I've had dreams-I don't know!" I almost wailed in frustration, but I had not the strength to do it. Besides, losing my temper in such a puerile way was hardly the right method to make a good impression. After all, this _was_ my first meeting with Rick Riordan.

I looked up at Rick earnestly for the first time since I'd woken up. A misty look had stolen over his eyes, and he seemed to be sunk deep in concentration over something of immense importance. I caught his gaze flicker toward the portrait of my mother on the wall, then wander back to me. Suddenly he seemed to come to himself again, and with a tiny exclamation he helped me up. I felt abruptly sore-after all, I'd just fallen flat on my back on the hard tiles of the kitchen floor.

"You should eat something, and rest," Rick said gently.

Mutely I nodded. Then I paused. "Rick, what's wrong?"

"Huh?" He looked back at me, his eyes preoccupied. "What's wrong? You just fainted."

"I know, but there's something else," I insisted. "You were thinking of something. What is it?"

He looked at me searchingly for a long moment. "Nothing," he said abruptly, and stood up. "I think I'd better be going now. If you need anything else, I'll leave my cell here."

Then, after setting his empty plate on the counter neatly, he left, leaving me standing in the middle of the kitchen with my mouth hanging open idiotically.

A~A~A~A~A

I fingered the rough, cut-up business card on which Rick had scrawled his cell number. Then, finally making up my mind, I leaned over to grab my blue aluminum phone from my desk and hastily punched in the number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Um..." All of a sudden, I had the strangest urge to laugh. It was absurd-my dreams, these visions, half-bloods, Olympians-all in the middle of a normal world of humans in the city. But, of course, I checked myself, I had it completely the way around-rather, the mortal was completely absurd in the middle of the Olympian realm.

"Anelise!" Rick breathed a sigh of relief. "Listen, I'm so sorry I left you there like that at your house-and after you fainting and all-but it's hard to explain-"

"Yeah," I interrupted his profused apologies. "I know."

That stopped him dead. "W-what?"

"It's something about my mother, isn't it?" I demanded. "I saw you look at her picture the moment I said I'd been having visions. It's about my heritage."

"Anelise, it's just a suspicion...I don't want you to-"

"Rick, you've got to help me with this. You're the only other person who knows, besides Lori."

"Help you with what?"

I took a deep breath, then plunged on. "I'm going to research my mother's history. Find something about Erin Daugherty Phoenix and tell me everything you can about her family tree."

A~A~A~A~A

In truth, I really deserved some credit. I actually seriously considered Dad's advice about Zeke-as I lay awake that night in my bed, alternately remembering the vision and deliberating what to do about my almost-ex-boyfriend. If he had even been my boyfriend at all.

I stared down at the now rumpled stationery still clutched in my hand.

_Dearest Anelise - I'm very sorry. Will you forgive me?_

It was amazing, really, how nine short words could echo so frequently and sonorously in one person's mind.

I knew that-inevitably-I would see him again next day in school. But somehow, a little nagging voice in the back of my head pounded me to get this over with before I even saw him again.

Slowly, tremblingly, I picked up a piece of notebook paper and a pen.

_Dear Zeke,_

_I know there's something different about you._

_I guess this is hardly the time. But I think saying this will help me to think. The first time I met you, you seemed to be the kind of person who knew...knew a lot. With you, I've always had the feeling that you could see inside me, that you knew all about me. It was a crazy thought at first-because I assumed you were human. I was narrow-minded, wasn't I?_

_How does it feel to know a girl to the core of her soul, but never be able to tell her for fear she would hate what you are? But I don't hate you. I never did, and I never will._

_I don't know if the old Anelise believed in true love and soulmates-but I know that now I do. No matter what's part of the brief past in which we've crossed paths, I promise you that I believe we must be together. I understand you the way a soulmate does; I understand who you are, and I have no other feelings than human because of that knowledge. There is nothing to be forgiven. If there is anybody to be forgiven, it would be me, for not trying hard enough._

_If you have the power, I want you to tell me all about myself. I know you have been watching._

_Love,_

_~Anelise_

_P.S. I bet you know who Lori's parent is._

Now that I could sit back and reread my letter, I nearly shuddered at the sappiness of it all-but every word was true. I could not cross out one letter of it. Zeke had to know exactly how I felt and exactly what I wanted from him. This was the only way.

Don't ask me how-but the moment I saw Rick's face fall into a pensive mood earlier that afternoon, I _knew_ what Zeke was.

A god.

**A/N: Trust me, the original version of this chapter was MUCH longer. But I wanted to end it with a bang, you know? So I promise the next chapter will be longer! (Anyway, this was supposed to be a ficlet-only six chapters, you know-and I've already violated its proper length. XD) So, anyway, I suppose you all know by now **_**which**_** god Zeke is (he's a minor god), but go ahead and guess what Anelise's heritage is! (Think: visions and healing hands...cripe, this is too easy.)**

**Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11: Reincarnations

**A/N: Hullo again, dear peoples! So sorry I haven't been up to scratch in consistent updates. I got somewhat...er...distracted, since my sister came home for spring break (and I'm on break as well, doing fun stuff). Also, my bf and I have been planning an elaborate online anniversary party, so...okay. Here comes the zhip-mouthy part. Thanks for the faithful reviews! Hopefully, you'll be well pleased with the sudden twists in **_**this**_** new chapter! =)**

Chapter 11: Reincarnations

I didn't bother to drop off the note in Zeke's mailbox or hand it to the postman. The next morning was Monday, a new day of school and tortuous Lori, so I simply folded up the small scrap of paper and slipped it between the pages of my calculus book and zippered up my backpack. After taking up the rather necessary nuisance of crutches, I waved a cheery good-bye to my dad (who was just pulling out of the driveway on his way to the station) and hopped onto the bus.

Calculus was my first class after homeroom. Knees knocking together, I swung around the doorway into the classroom, which seemed to have suddenly gone frigid and still. _Overactive imagination_, I chanted to myself.

"Hey, Annie!" Lori's bright voice chirped behind me. I jumped approximately three feet in the air.

Lori was grinning mischievously when I finally righted myself and turned around. She patted my shoulder quickly, her vivid green eyes sparkling. "Just wanted to make sure you had a restful weekend. See you at lunch!" she said significantly, then pranced off in the direction of her trig classroom.

"Oi!" I shouted after her retreating figure. "You dropped your precious leaf pens!"

"Styx!" was her irritated reply.

Sighing and shaking my head, I turned back and made my way to my usual spot toward the middle to the side, by the window where I'd first watched the fly bludgeoning itself to death against the glass pane. I slid in, resisting the urge to look behind me, knowing already who sat at the desk there. It was almost as if I could recognize Zeke's rhythmic breathing and his cool, minty scent...it was crazy.

Hastily I dug the note out of my backpack and slipped it onto his desk with one hand. Then I folded my hands attentively and pretended to actually pay attention as dishwater-blond Mr. Danvers began his usual meandering warm-up lecture on nonlinear inequalities.

The sharp corner of a paper poked my elbow a few moments later. Fingers trembling, I shot a guilty glance at Mr. Danvers' back before unfolding the blue sheet.

_You'll probably freak, but it's best if we both ditch today. Meet me at the park two blocks from here at lunchtime. -Z_

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. An image of his beautiful chiseled face, framed with black waves with sparkling blue eyes like crystal, lit up behind my eyelids. I opened my eyes again.

_Got it. ~A_

A~A~A~A~A

My dad, according to him and according to the voluminous visual records taken by his trusty Kodak, used to take me to the quaint little park two blocks down from the high school when I was little. There was a creaky old swing set to the east, a colorful but rusting merry-go-round to the north, seesaws to the south, and a cluster of slides, monkey bars, and a mini metal airplane to the east. Even when I was not conscious of it, I found my feet always treading the worn dirt path toward the airplane whenever I went there now (in hopes of rekindling some memories of any kind).

Now I shivered a little and tugged my striped blue scarf closer round my neck against the fanged Februrary wind. If this winter didn't let up soon, I was positive Lori would freak. It seemed like Hades was keeping Persephone longer than usual, I noted mildly. Then I started when I realized how calmly I was thinking of the Olympian world now. This thought led ienvitably to my encounter with Rick Riordan...and my strange dreams, or "visions" as he had accidentally called them.

I was still skinny enough to be able to crawl into the cockpit of the airplane, which was the most comfortable and cushioned section, though one of the windows had had its glass pane permanently knocked out, letting all the draft in. Stubbornly I settled in and waited, hardly daring to check the time on my watch.

"Hey."

His voice, low and deep, came from close behind me. Involuntarily I shivered. Then I turned. "So you really did come."

Zeke's black eyebrows came together. "Did you think I'd have you ditch for no reason?"

I shrugged. "You've probably been going to high school for, oh, I don't know, twenty millennia by now. Ditching wouldn't do anything to your record."

It was so strange, almost dream-like, to be talking about this mysterious young man's immortality while getting my butt frozen off in the cockpit of a play airplane, dressed in the most mundane clothes and with my very earthly backpack of textbooks still slung over one arm.

Something intensely pained flashed between his sapphire eyes, but was gone in an instant. "I'm sorry."

I stared at him. "What on earth are you apologizing for? I thought we cleared that already."

His mouth gave an odd twitch that was probably meant to be a smile, but the expression just kept breaking apart. Finally he gave up and simply eased into the cushioned seat next to mine. He leaned closer. "I'm apologizing for all the things I've ever done to you."

"W-what?"

He was coming steadily closer, his deep aquamarine eyes fixed on mine. We were so close that I could feel the puffs of his cool mint breath-even close enough to kiss.

He reached forward and grasped my bony hands in his gently but firmly. "Anelise, you've forgiven me for only a fraction of the things I've done to you. When I'm through, you will probably curse me to the end of time. Do you want the truth?"

I found myself staring at his long black lashes. I refocused my gaze on him. "I always want the truth," I whispered, but still I trembled.

He sighed and leaned back a bit, easing only slightly the growing pressure I'd felt closing around my heart. "So. You've figured out what I am."

I nodded unsteadily. I couldn't trust my voice enough yet to speak.

"Do you know which one I am?"

I bit my lip and shook my head. Then I reconsidered. "Well, your favorite color is blue. And...there was the wind in your car."

The first ghost of a smile flickered across his face. "Of course you'd remember. You've always been smart."

My brows mashed together. "What?"

He ignored me. "My name here is Zeke Ventus-and yes, my last name means 'wind.' I am Zephyrus, god of the west wind."

"S-so...so...your father's really Aeolus, and your brothers..." I trailed off.

Zeke nodded encouragingly. "Yes, they're the gods of the north, south, and west winds." He grinned. "What a pity Lori Pennant didn't recognize me first."

I felt a sudden need to defend my best friend. "Well, you can't possibly expect everyone else to be paying attention to your good looks and your charms. She's got her own boyfriend back at camp."

Zeke's smile widened. "So you admit I've got charm?"

"That wasn't the point."

He chuckled. "The more I talk to you, the more you sound like before..." Abruptly he closed his mouth.

I squeezed his hand a little too hard by accident. "Zeke-Zephyrus-"

"Just call me Zeke if it's easier."

"All right, then, Zeke. You keep saying stuff about 'before' and 'all the things you've done'. What in Hades' helm are you talking about?"

Amusement and anxiety seemed to be battling for possession over his face. "You're a born natural at this swearing thing," he remarked, then sobered. "Anelise, I know you're very good with weird things, but you probably won't believe me when I tell you that I have known you since the rise of Athens."

"You've known me-since I-you _what_?" I faltered.

Zeke sighed. "I knew it."

I cleared my throat uncomfortably and shifted in my cockpit seat. "Look, you had me ditch school on the first day of the week. I didn't come all the way here to freeze my butt off listening to gibberish! Explain yourself."

"I mean exactly what I said," he said evenly. "You're probably familiar with the Greek...er...legends, so do you remember the Isles of the Blest?"

Something flickered faintly to life in the back of my mind. "In Hades?"

Zeke nodded. "Yes, some souls decide to aim for the Isles of the Blest. Then they get reincarnated quite a few more times on earth before attaining the Isles."

I stared at him. "What does this have to do with me-with us?"

"You're in your fifth reincarnation, Anelise."

A~A~A~A~A

**A/N: Muwahahaha. Don't worry, my dear readers, there's more. At first this was one big chapter, but I wanted to keep this story a ficlet with short chapters, so I divided it into two. I hope you liked it! Please read on!**


	12. Chapter 12: Karma

**A/N: ...And, ta-da! I hope you all liked the last chapter. Now let's get to the real mysterious and juicy stuff in here...**

Chapter 12: Karma

My mind was frenetically trying to recall how to reconnect my jaw with the rest of my skull as I continued to gape at Zeke, my eyes and mouth and basically everything else possible on my face getting rounder and rounder. I managed to splutter out one semi-coherent thought. "Was my name always Anelise?"

Zeke was studying me with an odd expression akin to that of Rick's when I was fainting in the kitchen. "Let me get this straight. You have just discovered that I am the god of the wind, and that your soul has been reincarnated about five times, and _you ask me if your name was always Anelise_?"

"That sounds about right," I huffed. "I have a right to this information."

"All right, as you wish." Zeke chortled. "It wasn't always exactly Anelise, but usually a variation of it."

"What was my first name?"

"Your first soul, not reincarnated?"

"Yes."

"It was Ana."

I looked at him. "Just that? Ana?"

"Yes, Ana with one _n_." Zeke shifted closer again. "That was when I found you in Athens. You were the daughter of a politician then; your mother had passed away from an unfortunate accident."

I bit my lip and closed my eyes, trying to conjure up an image of myself in a blue chiton, walking confidently the worn paths of ancient Greece. "Did I always look the same?" I murmured.

I could hear the faint smile in Zeke's voice. "Yes, you did. You had caramel hair...and deep golden eyes."

"They're hazel," I stated.

"Lately. And you have become increasingly tanner with each incarnation."

Even this drew out a reluctant chuckle from me. "How long until the...the next time?"

"In your next phase, the first reincarnation, your name was Anna Lucia-the girl of light. You were the daughter of a widowed Roman senator. I have to admit...the language barrier was a struggle at first."

I opened my eyes again long enough to see the dreamy mist that had blanketed his eyes as he recalled a girl from ages ago. I must admit that I felt a sudden twinge of jealousy, but I consoled myself with the assurance that I was the same girl sitting right before him. "So you speak Latin now?"

"No, I taught you Greek. It wasn't that difficult; your tutor was Greek and had taught you quite a bit of his language before I even found you."

I smiled softly. "And the next?"

He laughed outright then. "Your second reincarnation is always so fun to recall. I had to wait centuries, but it was well worth it. You were in early medieval England, under the name Anne Eliza, the runaway daughter of a widowed knight. You became part of a traveling magic show."

My eyes twinkled. "Did I ever get to meet Robin Hood?"

Zeke's mouth twitched. "That's the fun part. You _were_ the daughter of Robin Hood."

My jaw fell open. "I _what_?"

"Robin Hood was your father and the forest your home."

"But Robin Hood was a _bandit_, silly, not a _knight_!" I cried.

Zeke's grin broadened. "That's what mortals think. They never get to hear the part of the story where Robin Hood was a knight before he became a bandit."

I found immediately afterward that I could find nothing coherent to say. Finally I managed, "Why was my mother always dead in each incarnation?"

Zeke shrugged, looking truly puzzled. "The life of a soul tends to repeat itself, I suppose. If you notice, you were always the only daughter of a widowed lawmaker."

I considered this: it was true. My dad now was a police officer. And my mother...was dead. I swallowed noisily. "After that?"

"Centuries of waiting again. Finally I found you on the _Mayflower_. Your name was Hannah Elizabeth; your father later became a governor of Plymouth. Your mother had drowned falling overboard."

I shuddered. Then I tried to return to lighter subjects. "That's the longest name I've ever had so far."

"But one of the closest to your present one," Zeke rejoined. He shot me a wry smile. "I was an outsider when we met that time. Your father did not quite approve of me."

"I can imagine."

Zeke's expression turned wistful again. He glanced outside through the frosted glass windshield of the cockpit. "Then it seemed to take forever until your next incarnation. I had almost given up-almost-when you resurfaced. And with quite a bang, too, I must say. Your fourth incarnation, the last before what you are today, was almost as exciting as your life as Robin Hood's daughter."

I frowned, unable to bear the suspense. "What do you mean?"

"You were a young Southern belle from antebellum Georgia, christened Anastacia Eleanor-"

"Wow, that's _really_ far from Anelise," I muttered.

"I know. That's why I didn't think it was you at first until I saw the photograph in the papers."

"In the _what_?"

"You resurfaced with style, as I said. You were in the newspapers for running away after having allegedly killed your mother."

"_WHAT_?" It seemed this was becoming the most popular word in my vocabulary lately.

Zeke went on calmly, as if I'd never spoken. "It actually took me months to locate you, even after I swallowed my pride and enlisted Aphrodite's help. She always seemed to have a knack for locating lost lovers."

I felt like my throat was slowly strangling itself. "Well? Where was I?"

"Here comes the exciting part. You'd cut off your hair, dressed like a man, and joined the Union army."

"The North? But I was from the South."

Zeke simply shook his head. "Well, think about it. If you were living in the Civil War era right now, I'd bet Hermes ten thousand drachmas you'd do the same-stick to your views and join the side you believed was right."

"I guess."

"You make me feel like I'm painting your personality," Zeke remarked. "You know that's what you would do. I've known you in all six of your lives now, Anelise, and it's not very hard anymore to read the mind of the girl I love."

A scarlet flush crept up my cheeks. I looked away quickly, but being a _god_, of course Zeke noticed. He smiled silently. "I wasn't sure if you'd changed, after having read that article about you in the newspaper. So I made myself invisible when I went around your camp. But you still saw me. You were the only one who saw me, in fact."

Something flashed viciously behind my eyelids: an image of blood soaking into navy blue cloth...my trembling, bony hand pressed against the bullet wound in my leg...staring above me into unfathomable sapphire blue eyes...

The image snapped out of my mind as quickly as it had come. I glanced back at Zeke.

He scrutinized the shock etched in my face. "You remember something now, don't you?"

I nodded mutely. I took a deep, shuddering breath. "So...that wound...you knew I'd be discovered as a woman."

Zeke's eyes searched mine. "I thought that would be what you remembered. It's always very intense, the first time we meet in each life." He paused, giving me enough time in my embarrassment to recall our first meeting in _this_ life-me on the floor, having slipped clumsily on my crutches. "Yes, I came to you first and healed you because I knew if you went to the doctor, your gender would be found out."

I waited.

"I came back to you time and again. You thought I was one of the new reinforcements at first; but pretty soon you figured out there was something different about me. You never saw me around a fire with a circle of friends, for one. And I always came to you alone."

More images, vague and haunting but ethereal, were stirring again in the back of my head. "I thought you were kind...just protecting me...but then I suspected you hadn't told on me because you wanted to take advantage of me."

Pain flashed again across his blue eyes, shooting arrows of guilt through me. But it was gone in a moment. "When you expressed your suspicions, I knew then that you had really changed," Zeke whispered. He looked down at our hands still clasped together. "Your mother's death then was an accident, Anelise, but you blamed yourself. I cannot deny that your self-loathing was a little justified, though I tried to comfort you as best I could. You had become angry at the world, and even me you could not fully trust."

I squinted up at Zeke. "What are you talking about?"

"In your life as Anastacia Eleanor, you had an argument with your mother and knocked her out cold with a heavy urn. She was dead minutes later. You ran away, afraid to face your father, who was a notoriously stern military man. Then you joined the Union army-and the real reason then was that you hoped you could escape your father and get yourself killed as punishment for your mother's death, at the same time dying for some cause."

I realized I hadn't been breathing up to this point. Hastily I refilled my lungs. "Some mess I was."

Zeke's laugh was melancholy and low. "I have to agree. I suppose...I suppose it's better you don't remember much of the pain of this life now. At least the cycle has been broken."

"Zeke, has it ever occurred to you that ninety-five percent of the time I have no clue what you're talking about?"

"I know. And I still wonder if I'm doing the right thing, giving you the burden of all your past lives."

I blinked. "Didn't you ever tell the other-I mean, didn't you ever tell me before in my past lives about reincarnation?"

Zeke's smile was sad. "No. This is the first time. I thought it would be the right time, because finally this life of yours has been different."

"How so?"

"Well, in every life since the first, you always remembered how your mother died."

"I _know_ how my mom died. Dad said it was a car accident."

"That's not the same as remembering," Zeke said gently.

I shrugged.

"Also, every time before, your mother was...ahem." He stopped and then tried again. "Your mother-your heritage-was purely mortal in your past lives."

The moment the words came out of his mouth, the entire realization struck me with the full brunt of a punch in the face. I sucked in my breath. "She was a half-blood, wasn't she?"

Zeke's eyes slanted up at me sharply. "You did your homework."

"As if I never do. Zeke, I've been having visions. And Rick-he saw my mom, his dad knew her before-I had my suspicions..." I trailed off at the look that came over his face.

"Your mother, Erin Daugherty, was not exactly a half-blood. More like one-eighth. She was the granddaughter of some god...though I'm not exactly sure which one."

It took me a long moment to reply. "Wow."

Zeke's mouth pulled up in a dry grin. "You see now why this life is different."

"But there's something else, isn't there?"

He looked at me, long ad hard. He said nothing for eternity.

"I'm getting to know you," I said simply. "You don't say anything for nothing. There's still that apology from a while ago that you haven't explained yet."

Zeke drew out a long, deep sigh. "Yes. In each life after your first in Athens, you became a cripple because of me...and then I essentially killed you."

A~A~A~A~A

Have you ever experienced the luxury of drowning?

Trust me, I know a lot about life and death experiences. And presently, I was in one. The cold, frosty air was suddenly still and oppressive, weighing down on me from all sides. I floundered around in my head, trying to remember how to breathe.

My voice came out mortifyingly hoarse. "You always seem to blame yourself for bad stuff that happens by accident."

"They're not accidents, Anelise. It's karma."

"Isn't that part of Hinduism?"

Zeke shrugged. "It's one practical little word to sum up exactly the same concept in the Olympian world."

I simply looked at him, waiting. Then I asked, tentatively, "Did it all start in my first life, then?"

He nodded morosely and looked down at his hands. "As Ana, you had a fight with your father over me. I'd come to you as myself, a god, and he feared for the lives of the clan; back in those days, demigods were notorious for spreading lasting destruction. They were powerful destroyers as well as heroes. Your father tried to prevent you from wedding me and bearing a child."

I swallowed and managed a shaky little laugh. "Sounds like the opposite of _my_ dad now."

"Your dad now doesn't know I'm a god. And, even if he knew, he wouldn't understand the implications."

I said nothing.

"In that fight, your father was drunk and took up a knife against you. The physician could do nothing to stop the infection; by the next day, the lower half of your leg had to be cut off. I came, but too late. After barely a week imprisoned in bed, you died." He bowed his head and buried his face in his hands.

Instinctively I reached out and touched the back of his hand, my fingertips tingling with electric sparks as they brushed over his skin. "It wasn't your fault, Zeke. I knew who you were, and I was the one who made my choice."

Zeke's eyes were tortured when at last he looked up again. "But you didn't have to. You lost your privilege to walk because of me, and now I have been fated to watch you, in every single life of yours, become a cripple on account of me." He drew a deep breath. "As Anne Eliza, the daughter of Robin Hood, you took up arms against a fully trained knight to defend my name, for I was believed to be an orphaned bastard. You wounded the knight...but he knocked you off your mount. The mare rolled over your leg and crushed it."

I winced.

"I found you-again, too late, and all for nothing. Other parts of your body had been damaged beyond repair. You had me ease your suffering by stabbing you through the heart."

I tried to smile, but failed. "I was a fierce one back then."

"And you still are." My fingers were still trailing lightly across the back of his hand, and he laid his other hand across that one, cradling it to his cheek. "In Plymouth, when you were Hannah Elizabeth, your best friend turned against you. She was in love with me-I'm ashamed to say now-and in her jealousy, she pushed you off a cliff. I came almost in time. But not soon enough. Your friend regretted what she did and ran away; I heard she resurfaced in Boston. But I was not angry with her. I knew by now that it was the Fates dealing with me. So I swore to myself, that if your soul reincarnated itself one more time, I would stick by your side and never leave you again."

"So what happened...when I was Anastacia?" I whispered.

"Anastacia Eleanor. Yes. I did indeed masquerade as one of the soldiers, so it was very easy to keep you in my sight. But the Fates would not have it. In the battle of Gettysburg, a cannon went off. Poor girl, you never knew I was a god. I'd never gotten the chance to tell you. Thinking I would be hurt, you threw your body over mine and took the brunt of the blast yourself." I must have been imagining it, but I was positive I saw something wet and sparkling coming down Zeke's face. "I tried to summon Apollo. But I had foolishly angered him before, and he would not help me. He said it was our fate. So I watched you bleed your life out. You would not go without dignity...and so you took my hand in yours, the one with a gun, and pulled the trigger on yourself."

There was a long silence. I counted the seconds: it stretched out for years, it seemed. Then I murmured, "I'm here now, Zeke. I'm not a cripple-at least not permanently-and I'm still alive."

"I know."

I mustered the courage to reach out my other hand and brush away the wild black waves from his brow. I leaned forward and gazed up into his deep blue eyes. "So now I see what's different about this life."

Zeke managed a small smile. "Yes. It's different." He sobered. "I did the only thing I could think of, Anelise. I wanted to save you this time. Right from the start. So I stayed away from you."

I blinked rapidly. "What do you mean?"

"I saw you entering the high school as I drove around this town. I recognized you in that split second. It took me all the willpower I had, but I did it. I avoided you at all costs. But...I could still see you. I watched you from the parking lot, in the cafeteria even, and...and from your own window."

My voice rose sharply. "I hope you weren't watching me change clothes!"

A naughty smile played on his lips. "I never saw anything you didn't want me to see. Promise."

I subsided, assuaged somewhat. "Go on."

"But as I've told you, the life of the first soul repeats itself. I am relieved to say that the consequences have been less severe. You're alive, you're still here. However, there was nothing I could do to prevent-" Abruptly he halted. He gestured vaguely at my leg and crutches.

I leaned even closer to him. Our heads had come even closer than before. "Listen, Zeke," I whispered. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that it's over. You've won. I'm alive. And we're still here, together." I blinked back the tears prickling at the back of my eyes.

He looked up into my eyes, and I saw a glimmer of hope there. Then he was moving, and my body knew what to do; my instincts took over. My hands fell from his cheeks as his hands came to cup my face and draw it closer. I closed my eyes and inhaled him, feeling his breath tickle my eyelashes. I waited for his mouth to find mine.

I could feel a tentative tenderness in his kiss, almost as if he could not believe I was here and he was here with me. Then his lips hardened against mine and grew passionate. His hands slid down and pulled me closer by the waist, almost roughly; I responded instantly and twined my arms around his neck. I hardly dared pull myself away. I wanted to be even closer, to be one with him. I slanted my head and mashed my mouth against his. I kissed him again.

I had enough reason to believe this was the first time I'd kissed any boy-or any god, for that matter-in this life. When at last we were forced to push away from each other to catch our breath, I could feel a thrill down my spine. My skin tingled with fire.

Zeke's voice was low and raw. "I've waited for you so long, Anelise. I love you."

The moment was suddenly shattered by the blaring of a cell phone. Unfortunately, it happened to be mine. Reluctantly I pulled away. My heart began to slow down to normalcy. I searched all my pockets until at last I found my worn blue phone ringing in my face. RICK CALLING, it said. I gave a little gasp and picked it up instantly.

"Rick?"

"Hey, Anelise. Er, is this a bad time? I tried dropping by the high school first because I was in the area, but I didn't see you. I ran into one of your friends, and she said you went out somewhere."

"Er...yeah," I chuckled. I glanced sidelong at Zeke, who was studying my face with interest. "I mean, yeah, I did go somewhere, but no, it's not really a bad time. What's up?"

"If I remember right," said Rick dryly, "you did put me on research about your mother."

My heartbeat quickened. "Well?"

"I had my suspicions. So I checked back with the director of this camp I went to before-"

"Camp Half-Blood?"

"Um, yes. How did you...? Oh, right, your friend is a demigod. I remember. So I asked Chiron for some records. I found your mother's name in there from almost twenty years ago. Erin Daugherty."

"Yeah?"

"She was a third-generation half-blood, mostly of mortal heritage, who had attended camp since she was nine years old. She was in cabin Apollo."

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! (Particularly the kiss... *wiggles eyebrows*) I told you Anelise was part Olympian! (Remember, she has healing hands and prophetic dreams.)**

**Anyway, I appreciate all your support and helpful comments. Please give me some feedback!**

**~Katrina Mae**


	13. Chapter 13: Confessions

**A/N: Sooo sorry again for the delayed update! There was something wrong with my account and it wasn't uploading my documents. But anyway, I figured it out and fixed it, and now I gladly present the next installment in the epic of Anelise Phoenix! Enjoy! =)**

Chapter 13: Confessions

I was openmouthed.

"Anelise?" said Rick, muffled through the cellphone. "Are you still there?"

Zeke frowned and looked up into my eyes. When I didn't respond, he waved a hand slowly in front of me.

With a sudden jerk, I came awake again. My voice was hoarse. "Cabin Apollo? You're sure?"

Understanding washed over Zeke's face as he listened to my side of the conversation. His brow involuntarily creased.

I could picture Rick Riordan nodding at the other end of the line. "When I found that out, it all just made sense to me. I mean, you had a...a vision of sorts. In your kitchen. Last time we met."

My mind was whirring at top speed. "And-my hands! There was this one time when Lori was getting stressed, and I touched her, and she got all relaxed and healthy again."

"Apollo's healing powers."

"But if I'm, like, fourth- or fifth-generation half-blood, and I got so much mortal blood in my heritage, then why would those powers still be noticeable?"

"Magical powers are not like genes, Anelise. Either you have them or you don't. There are no cross-breeds or in-betweens that are less powerful."

I bit my lip. "So I'm just as good as a half-blood."

"If it makes you feel good to think that, then absolutely. You are."

"Do you think..." I trailed off.

"What?"

"Never mind." I shook my head. "It's something I have to ask my dad. He's a mortal, you see. I don't know if he knows."

There was a long stretch of silence. Then something rustled over the line and Rick said, "I think he knows."

"W-what d'you mean?"

"Listen, you're right, you should probably ask your father all about this. Right now I have to go run and do something-so if you don't mind-"

"Yeah, sure, bye." I slapped my phone closed, then gazed back at Zeke, who was studying me solicitously.

The corner of Zeke's mouth twitched. "I told you that you had Olympian blood in you. At least in this life."

"Yeah." I smiled gently at him, then reached forward and took his hand in mine. I tugged as I stood up. "C'mon, it's time to go."

He looked bemused. "Back to school? It's already past dismissal time."

As I opened my mouth to answer, pain blossomed and exploded inside my head. The darkness was swift and vicious this time as it closed in: my air was cut off, and with a gasp for oxygen, I succumbed to the inky curtain.

A~A~A~A~A

_ The images in my mind were hazy and golden, as in a dream. It was like watching a movie on fast forward. In a blur I instantly recognized my mother's youthful face, her luscious caramel waves tossed back in the wind as her eyes lit up in an unexpected gale of laughter. She was seated leisurely on a wooden bench in a park, leaning against the shoulder of a dark-haired man who was grinning back at her-apparently he'd just told her his good joke. They were both attempting to finish a pair of melting ice cream cones._

_ The guy's mouth moved silently as he said something else. My mother Erin laughed even harder. Then, so fast and so suddenly that I missed the movement in a blink, she mashed her vanilla ice cream in his face, where it stuck to his nose._

_ This man was not my father Patrick; there was no resemblance at all. But something about him, around his eyes and the way he smiled gently, tugged at the edge of my mind; I'd seen some part of his face before. I couldn't place my finger on it._

_ And then I suddenly saw my own self, bony and short-haired with a face almost a carbon copy of my mother's, come loping across the park toward the couple on the bench. I could see my face close up as emotions played rapidly across it: bewilderment, realization, shock, hostility, and then-I gasped at the intensity-hatred._

_ Sound came drifting back now faintly, and I could make out conversation well enough. The dream Anelise stalked up to my mother and the man, hands on hips, and eyed them suspiciously._

_ "Oh, hun! I didn't expect to see you here. Gale," my mom said, turning to the man, "this is my daughter Anelise."_

_ Gale grinned affably. "Pleased to meet you, Anelise. You look like your mother."_

_ The young Anelise's hazel eyes hardened as she surveyed the bodily contact between the two on the bench. "Dad was wondering where you are. You left your cell in the kitchen, and he had a question about the bathroom," she said abruptly._

_ Erin's face showed her swift descent from the clouds to earthen reality. She jumped up quickly. "Well, Gale!" she exclaimed. "It was wonderful seeing you again after all this time! Good luck with your family. Er, let's go, Anelise."_

_ As the younger me turned away to lead the way home, the scene abruptly blurred and swirled into another, this time with a bang of raised voices in my ears._

_ "Why, Mom, why?" I was shouting._

_ My mother and I both looked disheveled, no doubt from long discussion. My father sat close at hand, looking both bewildered and shattered._

_ "Anelise, please try to listen! Gale and I broke up when we were teenagers. We're just friends!" my mom cried._

_ I swiped impatiently at the tears tracking down my smudged face. "That's not what it looked like to me. You were cuddling him like you two were dating!"_

_ "Annie," said Dad warningly. "Just think about it for a minute-"_

_ I rounded on him with fierce defiance. "Will you stop that and shut up!" I screamed savagely. "You weren't there, you didn't see with your own eyes what I saw!"_

_ "We're best friends!" Mom insisted, her voice so vulnerable and pleading. "We lost touch when he moved away, and I just saw him at Starbucks. You have to believe me, Annie. He has his own family. I would never do that to you or your father!"_

_ "Oh, yeah?" I screeched. "Then how come I never saw you act so happy and excited around Dad?"_

_ I lunged across the few feet between my mother and me, hands clawed and outreached to grasp her throat. Dad flew in between us, shouting incoherently, while all I could hear coming from my mouth was an insane, bestial stream of curses and cries. Our three bodies became a blur as I clutched and yanked at whatever I could lay hands on._

_ "I hate you!" I was screaming. "I hate you, I hate you!"_

_ What happened next was veiled by a dark mist. I heard a sob wrenched from my chest, and then an explosion somewhere. All that met my ears now was sudden silence, broken only by the faint musical tinkling of ceramic shards on the hardwood floor._

_ My eyes came back into focus, and what filled my vision next was hideous. There was blood everywhere, as thick as ink and as morbidly red as a thick cherry fountain. There was a rivulet of blood that trickled from Erin Phoenix's hairline down across her forehead to the side of her chin. Her wide hazel eyes were fixed, glazed and unseeing, on the ceiling above. My hands were curled in fists around the neckline of her silky blouse, and now these very hands, the hands that always healed, were covered in a web of lacerations mingled with my mother's own blood._

_ I wasn't breathing._

_ I could only see the perfect curve of my mother's cupid-bow lips, always a soft and youthful pink. Now crimson liquid came bubbling up from behind her teeth and stained that perfect mouth like a vampire's._

_ "Anelise...Anelise...can you hear me? Anelise..."_

_ My dad's voice was faint. All I could hear was my heartbeat, growing louder and louder and more frantic as it galloped. It was racing-toward what end, I didn't know. All I knew was that the heart beneath my bloodied hands was no longer beating._

_ I shoved away the masculine hand that came down on my shoulder. I heard someone screaming, loudly and endlessly, rolling and crashing in my eardrums. I looked at my open mouth and realized it was me. Then I was stumbling across the slippery floor, hands before me to find the railing. I was running down the stairs toward the door. My fingers were slick with blood; I couldn't grasp the doorknob. I finally wrenched it open and fled to the freedom of the biting cold air._

_ "Annie!" my dad yelled. "Come back here! Anelise!"_

_ I was sobbing uncontrollably now. I found the handle of the car door and slid in. Then I released the brake, closed my eyes, and drove mindlessly._

A~A~A~A~A

I came to in the warmth of Zeke's arms. I felt as if all the breath had been sucked out of me. I gasped and struggled for air while he patted me and smoothed my wild hair soothingly.

"Do you feel all right now?" he asked. "Can you stand?"

I nodded numbly and allowed him to help me to my feet. When I was standing more or less steadily enough, I made as if to exit from the plane. His grip on my wrist held me back. "Annie, what's wrong? What did you see?"

"Take me home now," I pleaded. "Just take me home."

A~A~A~A~A

My surroundings were disappearing swiftly into a blur as I strode into the house. In the mist of my tears, I vaguely saw my dad's face as he turned from the dining table, a mug of coffee in his hand, with confusion arresting his visage while he took in the grief in my eyes.

My voice was broken.

"Why?" I whispered.

Dad continued to gaze at me uncertainly. His eyes flicked toward Zeke, who was at a respectable distance from me at my side. Zeke shot back a puzzled look. My father returned his gaze to me.

In a flame of rage, I took one step forward and swung at my dad's chest. The mug of coffee flew from his hand, struck the table, and rolled to the floor, where the dark liquid seeped into the wood like blackened blood.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I yelled. "Why?"

The tears finally spilled from my eyes and splashed, hot and steaming, down my cheeks. Great racking sobs shook my body. I stumbled around numbly, and then I sought the shelter of the arms that stretched out to take me. I didn't care anymore if they were Zeke's or my dad's.

"Hush, baby," my dad murmured. "Shh." His free hand stroked the back of my tangled honey hair.

"I saw her face," I croaked into his shirt, which was now drenched with my salty tears. "I saw the blood-blood everywhere-my hands...there was her blood dripping from my hands..."

"Listen to me, baby." Dad's hands came up to cup my face so I could look at him. "It was an accident. I don't blame you, Annie."

I hiccupped a few times. I shook my head senselessly. "Then why didn't you tell me? After the crash."

"You lost your memory, Annie."

I frowned, partly at the tears that were threatening at the corners of my eyes once more. "But that's my point."

Dad sighed heavily. "I wouldn't want you to live with that. I thought you would be happier not remembering."

"It was my life. I did something terrible, and I don't deserve to escape from the memory!" I protested.

Dad moved his hands to my shoulders, steadying them as the sobs gradually leaked out of me and subsided to involuntary whimplers. "Anelise, when you ran from the house that...day...you drove off with your guard down. The police reports said you crossed over into the opposite lane on purpose. So you could crash the car...and..."

"...And kill myself," I whispered.

Very slowly, my father nodded. Then I felt his head move; he was looking at Zeke again, very intently. "She knows? All of it?"

"I would say," Zeke said heavily.

I sniffled and forced my head back to stare at Zeke. "Know what?"

Zeke gave me a sad half-smile. "Your father knows you're a half-blood."

I looked back at Dad. "You knew about Mom, then."

"Yes. I..." he trailed off. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I was a close friend of your mother's when we were in high school. She kept talking about a summer camp she attended. In a...monster situation, I got dragged along with her. I got to see the outside of Camp Half-Blood. At least that much."

I hiccupped softly. "You can see through the Mist?"

"Yes."

Zeke shifted with a rustle of clothing. He looked at my father; I realized randomly that they were the same height. "Mr. Phoenix, Anelise may have told you that I have a relative who's an expert on...er...dreams. She tried to regain her memory in a session not too long ago. With your permission, I think she would be ready to go back."

Dad's eyes were strangely focused on Zeke's face, as if trying to recall him from somewhere. Something flashed across his expression, almost too fast for me to notice in my daze. He smiled crookedly. "Morpheus magic. I see." He blinked a few times. "There's something else at the bottom of this."

The reincarnations, I thought. Did my father suspect? I tried to peer subtlely into his eyes, but they just seemed the way they always were before, kind of loving and fun, but not...old. Not as old as two millennia. This was not the same father from my lives past.

Zeke seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek, a strange habit for a god. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe you know who I am."

Dad concentrated. "There were clues... You don't exactly act the way kids do nowadays. Old-fashioned courtship, for one."

He was remembering the dailing letters. An irrational giggle bubbled up inside me; I bit my lip to silence it.

"So which are you, north?" Dad was asking.

Zeke was visibly relaxing; he actually grinned. "Everyone thinks I'm north. No, I'm west."

It felt so alien to me, to be talking so calmly with my very mortal dad in the living room about my immortal boyfriend's godly identity. I squirmed a little and took the opportunity to scrub most of my face clean. Now use crying now; Dad didn't hate me, and my mother was still dead. There was no way to bring her back.

Unless...

"Zeke, I need to seeMo," I burst out. "Now."

I felt Dad squeeze my shoulder once, and then he released me. "Clean your face," was all he said, but I knew he consented. He knew what Zeke was and probably had a pretty good guess that there was some heavy secret Zeke and I had; but still he was allowing me to walk forth, unarmed, into this strange magic world.

I could be walking through that front door and be attacked by a hydra the next moment.

Dad's trust really gave me a sense of security.

Zeke interrupted my wry thoughts. Somehow he had been guiding me down the steps while I was still lost in my own mind, and at the same time he was carefully rubbing away the grubby tearstains from my cheeks. I smiled wanly at him. "Thanks."

He opened the front door for me, and immediately we were confronted with none other than Rick, his fist raised to knock.

I glanced up quickly, hoping none of the salty tracks were left on my face. "Hey, Rick. Sorry-Zeke and I were just about to-" I looked up hastily at Zeke to rescue me from my perilous lack of manners.

Zeke smiled affably at Rick, who somehow wasn't quite as tall as my boyfriend. "So you must be the Rick Anelise was talking to."

My friend nodded, lowering his hand to thrust it into his pocket. I noticed he'd shaved recently, which was an improvement. "Rick Riordan. We, uh, met each other in a Greek mythology bookstore."

"Figures," grinned Zeke, and I had to snort at his modernized speech.

"I guess this is a bad time, then...?" said Rick, peeking over my shoulder into the apparently empty house. Dad must have been somewhere on the other side, maybe in his bedroom.

"W-well, not exactly," I stammered. "Um, does this have to do with-?"

Rick raised an eyebrow, obviously not getting my telegraphic message.

"Is it about the-the boy and the girl?" I amended.

Rick gave me an intensely blank look.

"Oh. I guess I didn't tell you. Remember when I fainted in the kitchen?" I said.

Zeke raised _his_ eyebrows in turn. "So much happens in the kitchen lately," he said dryly.

Rick didn't seem to hear him. "You mean when you had that vision."

"Yeah-well-" I was getting hopelessly incoherent, and it took a moment to gather my own thoughts straight. "Well, when I had the vision, I remember waking up thinking about a prophecy..."

"You also said something about a battle on Olympus, and the name Sally," Rick noted.

I licked my lips. Strangely, my heart was pounding hard against my chest. "Yes. It's urgent. I remember now, her name is Sally Jackson. Don't ask me how I know; I just do. She has a son...Percy... And the other one, Fred. He has a daughter named Annabeth. They're in this together. There's going to be a war-and soon."

Zeke was studying my with frightening intensity. "You saw all this?"

I nodded.

"I'd think Apollo himself would have foreseen something like this," he mused.

Rick look sharply at Zeke. "You sound like you know him."

Zeke's smile was abstracted. "He's my cousin of sorts."

"Zeke here is actually Zephyrus," I explained hastily.

Rick's eyes widened a fraction.

Zeke was ignoring both of us and muttering seemingly to himself. "...But I suppose Apollo doesn't predict everything, anyway. He sees too much nowadays to pay attention to anything in particular."

Rick turned back to me. "You're absolutely sure about this?"

I nodded vigorously till my head hurt. "Positive."

"Where does she live?"

I was just coming into the realization that my headache wasn't going away; it was only intensifying. "I-I don't know..."

My vision blacked out momentarily. Then I was walking again in the dream world, but it was not misted with gold like the memories of my life; it was clearcut and sharp as crystal, like the visions of the future I'd had before. I was moving soundlessly behind a dark-haired woman as she hauled heavy bags of groceries up an endless, steep staircase. It was an apartment building, I realized with a jolt. She stopped at a door, as white and expressionless as the rows of doors on either side of it. Her jeys jangled. In the brief second that her hand shifted to thrust the key in the doorknob, I caught a glimpse of the number on the wall beside the lintel: 52.

"Annie. Anelise? Talk to me."

I came back to earth with another jar. I blinked and shook my head. Rick and Zeke were both peering at me solicitously. As the last of the black shadows receded, I took a deep breath. "I just saw it, in my head. That was Sally. She lives in an apartment, number 52, in Manhattan. I don't know what street, but I have a really, really strong feeling I'll just know how to get there."

Zeke's blue eyes flickered. "What about Mo?"

I shook my head again, impatiently this time. "We're talking about a war here, Zeke. My life can wait."

Under ordinary circumstances, and assuming we were ordinary people, I was pretty sure Rick would have laughed at that. But these were far from ordinary circumstances, and we were far from ordinary people.

"Let's go, then," said Rick.

Zeke nodded once and waved his hand toward the curb. His Lexus materialized on the asphalt. "My transportation. Get in."

The three of us were already moving as fast as footless ghosts across the lawn, when I heard the distant patter of feet coming up behind us. I whirled, my body tensed instinctively.

Unable to brake in time, Lori Pennant ended up throwing herself into the arms I reflexively held out for her. She gasped for breath.

"Lori!" I exclaimed shakily. "What are you doing here?"

She eyed me accusingly. "Going on my afternoon run, what do you think? Or did you forget I live in your neighborhood? I'm not spyingon you, if that's what you're assuming. Though I _am_ wondering what two gorgeous guys are doing on either side of you."

I flushed from confusion, embarrassment, and impatience all rolled up in one. "Lori, it's great to see you, and I'm sorry I ditched school like that, but Zeke and I had to discuss some important things, like the fact that he's immortal and that there is an impending war coming to Olympus in, oh, five seconds."

Lori's huge emerald green eyes widened to saucers. She seemed incapable of deciding which thing I'd just blurted out shocked her most. "Zeke's a god? Which one? Wait, there's a war? Oh my gods, why didn't my mom tell me? Is camp going to be safe? How did you know all this? Oh STYX! Where's my bunny?"

Zeke and Rick were frowning their heads off at my crazy demigod friend. Incidentally, "bunny" was her short term for her bunny-shaped coin purse, where she kept golden drachmas.

"You're going to IM somebody _at this time_?" I demanded.

Lori looked remotely offended. "Well, Demeter's my mom, isn't she? We've got to make sure this information is correct!"

"For the gods' sake, Lori, I'm a half-blood!" I yelled, loud enough to wake up the bulldogs and vigilantes thirteen houses down the road. "My great-great-grand-something is Apollo! I had a vision!"

Lori's hand abruptly stopped fumbling the drachmas. Her jaw dropped.

"Now either you quit the hysterics and leave this to us, or hurry up and come along," I said sternly. "We've got a mortal mother to warn here."

Lori's jaw set, and she gripped my wrist. "Whatever this is, you're not going to leave me out _now_, Anelise Phoenix. Lead the way."

**A/N: Roflmfao, I always grin each time I read Lori's lines. Mildly put, she's an...er...interesting character, I'd say. So a lot happened in this chapter, eh? I hope you don't mind the whole whirlwind of events. It's just that I'm really eager to wrap up this story, now that I've got it all pretty much planned out, so just bear with me.**

**Also, please note that I'm giving out FREE CHOCOLATE COOKIES to anyone who reviews! Come and get 'em!**

**~TOIMI**


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